


In Need of a Wife

by Fyre



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, An Inward Treasure, Complete, F/F, Georgian Period, LGBTQ Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When there is a threat to his reputation and his personal affairs are expected to come under scrutiny, Bellamy Goldacre, Marquis of Cathkin, must bow to societal pressure and take a wife. As little as he may desire one. </p><p>This is a follow-on semi-short story, set some nine years after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/409866/chapters/679810">An Inward Treasure</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bellamy found the matter of propriety quite tiresome on occasion.

He could understand why some people deemed matrimony a natural state, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why it had to be foisted upon him. It was true that he was firstborn heir to a Dukedom, but he had no desire or need to beget heirs, not with his father and stepmother producing yet another Goldacre child almost every other year like clockwork.

More especially, he had no desire to be bound to a woman when his own lover of choice was nothing of the kind.

All the same, with his thirty-fourth year fast approaching, it was become unfortunately clear that if he did not start making overtures towards marriage, his lack of interest in ladies might lead to speculation of the more unfortunate - and very much true - persuasion. That, in turn, would lead to all kinds of questions about his associates and his family, and that, he would not allow.

His parents, naturally, knew of his proclivities, though they had no notion that he and Rab had all but hand-fasted. It was not marriage in the eyes of the law or in the eyes of the Church, but as near as made no difference. Nine years of happiness and fornication was more than happened in some marriages.

All the same, the family name had to be preserved.

His father told him he was a damned fool, but Bellamy knew it was necessary.

He made discreet inquiries, and particularly paid court to Blanche, who knew all the most eligible ladies, and more importantly, knew all of their secrets. She would not breathe a word of them to anyone, naturally, but he knew that if she were to bring a lady to his attention who might not object to an inattentive husband, her opinion was to be trusted.

When he visited London before the beginning of the season, the Marchioness knew of it before he even arrived. A letter was awaiting him, and by the next afternoon, he was paying court to the lady herself in her townhouse. To his surprise, she was not alone.

Bellamy looked at Blanche with masked suspicion. She met his gaze innocently enough, but he knew three months had been more than enough for her to find a likely candidate. “Lord Cathkin,” she said, rising and curtseying deeply in a way that told him his father’s title had been bandied about. “May I present Miss Dormer, late returned from Canton.”

Bellamy turned with a polite bow to the lady in question, who was standing beside Blanche.

She was quite lovely, with a rosy complexion, clear blue eyes and her dark hair dressed in the most fashionable of styles. Her clothing, though not in keeping with London fashion, had clearly been crafted in far off lands, with enough exoticism to catch the eye, but subdued enough not to overwhelm. More significantly, he noted that she was only a few years younger than himself, which was rare in ladies being presented.

“Miss Dormer,” he said, bowing slightly at the waist. He paused, frowning. “Your father would be Captain Dormer? Formerly of the Neptune? More lately with the East India Trading Company?”

The woman looked at him in astonishment. “Yes, my Lord,” she said, flushing. Her accent was unusual, naturally English, but with the flavour of another accent laced through it. “I did not know he was well-known.”

Bellamy laughed. “I did not know of him in truth,” he said, “but his ship was one built in my father’s yard.”

Her expression brightened. “My father spoke well of the Neptune, my Lord.”

Bellamy smiled. “My father will be quite satisfied to know it did not capsize.”

Blanche motioned for them to sit, resuming her place on the couch as tea was brought in. “I thought that you ought to meet Miss Dormer before the season begins,” she said with that innocent smile still in place. “Her father has sent her to seek a suitable match, and I heard a tale you also sought someone appropriate.”

Bellamy glanced at Miss Dormer, who had accepted a cup of tea from the maid. “Indeed,” he said. “As much as I enjoy the season, it is rather like looking at a garden: all colour and hardly time to tell one bloom from another.”

Miss Dormer met his eyes with a directness that he found quite admirable. “It is not as delightful as you might think, my Lord,” she said, “to be seen as a flower that is simply waiting to be plucked.”

Blanche hid a small smile in her teacup. “Alas,” she said, “Miss Dormer has had little experience of the season. In Canton, she hosted for her father, but there was little society to speak of. Now, she finds herself quite overwhelmed by the amount of attention paid to her.”

Miss Dormer had the grace to blush slightly. “Quite so, my Lady,” she said, though Bellamy could see the way her hand shook beneath her teacup. So she had a need to be wed, but did not wish to be displayed? And she had something of an opinion? And no experience of the season, but experience of playing lady of the house? He half-frowned, wondering what little novelty suggested to Blanche that she would be well-suited to him.

“If you have yet to experience the season, you may find you enjoy it,” he offered mildly.

She looked uncertainly down at her tea. “Forgive me, my Lord,” she said. “Too many people have been calling upon me simply to see if I have turned Chinese.” She looked up at him. “I do not enjoy being patronised simply because my father and mother chose to raise me in Canton. I am not some novelty to be examined at leisure.”

“Then you simply need a benefactor, Miss Dormer,” he murmured in understanding. He could well remember his dear mama, ostracised as common for her mother’s low birth until her marriage to his father. How much more trying it must be to be well-born and English, but to never have set foot on England’s fair soil. “I am quite sure Blanche would be capable of chasing your tormenters away.”

Miss Dormer’s expression softened as she looked at the older woman. “Indeed,” she said, “my Lady has been most gracious and patient.”

“Tush,” Blanche said with a dismissive wave of her fingers. “We ladies must stand together.”

When she smiled, Bellamy couldn’t help notice that Miss Dormer was a quite beautiful specimen. No matter if she came from Canton. People in their circles would have been lining up simply to see if it was true that such a lovely creature was still unbound, and trying to mark her card before she even set foot out her door.

They made small talk over pastries and tea, and Miss Dormer proved less prickly when at her ease. She even drew surprised laughter from Bellamy on several occasions, and he caught Blanche looking both smug and satisfied from the corner of his eye on such occasions.

When Miss Dormer rose, excusing her, some hour or so later, Bellamy rose at once.

“Miss Dormer,” he said, holding out his hand for hers. She looked at him in surprise, even more so when he bowed over her fingers. “It has been a pleasure.”

“It has, my Lord,” she agreed, pink warming her cheeks. “I hope my manner did not alarm you unduly.”

“Ha!” He shook his head. “You have not met my father. His manners would put your on an infinitely high pedestal.”

“I would that he were jesting,” Blanche added with a rueful smile. “His Grace is quite… particular.”

“I am used to sea captains, my Lady,” Miss Dormer said with a wry smile. “One becomes accustomed to their tone.” She offered Bellamy a gracious smile. “I thank you for your time, Lord Cathkin. Perhaps we shall encounter one another on some other occasion.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, standing formally until she walked from the room.

Blanche hurried over to him. “Well? Is she not most suitable?”

He gave her a look, feigning disbelief. “You bring me someone who has not seen a season?”

She pulled a quite unladylike face at him. “Bay, dear, you asked me to find you a suitable wife,” she said. “You did not ask me to find some prancing little ninny who only cares for the colour of her dress and the curls in her hair. I have found one who will suit you best.”

He chuckled. “That is so,” he agreed, “and I imagine her to be an amiable hostess.” He gave Blanche a suspicious look. “Why do you think she and I would be well-suited?”

Blanche laid her hand upon his sleeve. “For you no more desire a wife than she desires a husband,” she murmured.

Bellamy stared at her, his heart fluttering in dismay. “What the deuce do you mean by that?”

Blanche sighed. “Bay, my darling boy, do you really think I have known you all these years and remained blind?” She squeezed his arm gently. “I have watched the way your eyes move at too many gatherings. I know you do not seek a wife to be with her as a man would be with a woman.”

Bellamy’s breathing felt tight in his chest and he drew back. He must have looked fearful, terrified even, for she caught his hand before he could pull away.

“Bay,” she said softly, “peace.”

“You have no notion what you are saying,” he said, his heart drumming wildly. “None at all.”

“No, I imagine not,” she murmured. “Go and look into the parlour, Bay. See why I have chosen this bride for you.”

His tongue darted along his lower lip and he forced himself to calm, turning and walking briskly out into the hall. He lightened his step and leaned for a moment against the wall. He had been so demmed careful, but Blanche knew him. Blanche saw him for what he was.

He approached the parlour door on legs that still shook and peered through the narrow gap.

Miss Dormer was there, but she was not alone.

A young Chinese woman was with her, sitting upon a daybed beside her. Miss Dormer was holding the other woman’s hand between her own, and she was speaking to her softly, intently, and - Bay recognised the expression - intimately.

He drew back, hand to his lips.

It would be fitting indeed, he thought dazedly, a woman who brought her own woman to a marriage where the husband already considered himself wed to another man.

He retreated back to the parlour, to Blanche. She was sitting upon the couch, working on an embroidery. She looked up at him. “Would you see her again?” she asked quietly.

Bellamy hesitated, then nodded slowly. Better for both of them that they were not foisted on people with expectations of a dutiful husband and a productive wife. “I would,” he said, “if she wishes it so.”

Blanche smiled quietly. “I will arrange matters.”


	2. Chapter 2

Courting was not Bellamy's strong suit.

He had walked out with ladies, naturally, for it would be unseemly not to. By and by, the ladies he walked with were plucked for marriage, though he remained a stalwart bachelor. He was quite unsure how to proceed with a proper courtship with a respectable lady, particular when he did not wish her to be wed under the pretence that he would be a devoted husband. 

Blanche, thankfully, was merciful and far kinder than she had reason to be.

On a pleasant afternoon, she arranged for them to take some air in Hyde Park. 

It was not as if Bellamy was unsure how to proceed, but he had never spoken to a woman with the intention of taking her to wife, and he was unsure if there was some other etiquette that bridged the divide. 

The air was brisk and light, and though the sun was out, it was not terribly hot. 

Miss Dormer's hand rested on Bellamy's arm as they made their way down the broad pathways. They were, naturally, not alone. Miss Dormer's Chinese maid walked some few paces between them, close enough to be chaperone, but distant enough to allow them a little privacy. 

"How are you finding London now?" he finally asked. "Your first days were doubtless trying."

She smiled. "It is becoming more bearable," she admitted. "I think it is simply so much larger than the circles I am used to moving in."

"Ah," he agreed. "The infamous Canton." He looked down at her. "Tell me, did you all dress in robes, smoke opium, and drink obscene amounts of tea?"

She looked at him sharply, then noted the teasing glint in his eye. "There were robes," she agreed, "much like those Mingzhu wears, though only privately. When one represents England's interests in the East, one must appear as English as one can in public."

Bellamy glanced back at Fei Mingzhu. The girl looked like she was barely twenty, but Blanche assured him that she was easily of an age with Miss Dormer herself. Her features were smooth and placid, her eyes gleaming ebony framed by curving almond-shaped lids. The robes she wore were subdued in colour, and modest, covering her from neck to toe, with long sleeves all but hiding her hands. He had caught a glimpse of loose breeches beneath the skirts, which caught him quite by surprise. 

"Fei Mingzhu," he murmured to Miss Dormer. "She has been with you some time?"

Miss Dormer's cheeks coloured slightly. "Yes," she said. "Quite some time. My father wished for me to learn the local language, and to have a companion that I might walk abroad."

"She is not just your maid?" Bellamy asked, surprised.

Miss Dormer looked at him in open amusement, her eyes dancing. "My Lord, she is my bodyguard."

Bellamy stopped dead, turning to look at Fei Mingzhu. 

She looked back at him calmly, her expression inscrutable. She was slight as a stick, barely enough meat on her bones to keep the wind from blowing her off. Her hands were folded before her and she inclined her head slightly. "My Lord?"

"Bodyguard?" he echoed incredulously, looking back at Miss Dormer. 

Miss Dormer was on the verge of laughing openly. "Indeed, my Lord," she said. "She is trained in martial combat for the sole purpose of protecting her mistress. My father was very fortunate to acquire her services. Such ladies are highly sought after in Canton circles."

"Was that necessary?"

Miss Dormer smiled quietly. "You have not lived beyond the boundaries of Europe, have you, my Lord?" She arranged the lace of her cuff with her fingertips. "We English are not always as welcome as we wish to believe. If one wishes to walk abroad, one needs appropriate companionship."

He offered her his arm again. "I see I am dire need of education," he admitted.

Miss Dormer smiled serenely at him. "Indeed, my Lord."

The continued their walk about the park, and Bellamy mulled over the questions he now longed to ask.

"You wish to know if she has had cause to defend me," Miss Dormer said as they paused by the pond. "Do not deny it, my Lord, for I can tell."

Bellamy looked at her sheepishly. "I am quite transparent, it seems."

She laughed. "She has," she said. "On several occasions." She looked out at the pond, and the ducks drifting serenely on the surface. "Some three years ago, there was a small faction who believed I might make a useful bargaining chip. Mingzhu... took issue with the matter." She smiled quietly. "Not one of them walked away that night."

"An impressive ally," Bellamy murmured. "And loyal, to travel so far to an unfamiliar land."

She looked up at him, her expression grave. "Yes. She and I shall not be parted."

"I would not imagine it possible," he replied, just as serious. "One cannot separate a person from their shadow."

She stared at him for a long moment, then a smaller, truer smile curled her lips. "Wisely said, my Lord," she said as they set on their way once more. "I wonder if you perhaps have a shadow also."

"Perhaps," he murmured thoughtfully. "Though mine may not be trained in martial arts."

Miss Dormer laughed quietly. "No," she agreed. "That takes a particular sort."

They exchanged looks and quiet smiles, and Bellamy knew they understood one another.

 

______________________________________________________

 

 

“Where the devil have you put my book, woman!”

Bellamy stopped in the doorway of the Rutherglen townhouse.

He had not expected his parents to arrive so early in the season, especially not when they were inclined to take the carriage. To arrive so early, they must have come by boat, and Bellamy knew all too well how much that turned his mother’s belly.

“Lud, Jamie,” Isabelle called back from the parlour. “It will be where you left it.”

Bellamy hurried to the parlour, stepping within.

Indeed, Mama Isabelle was there, reclined upon the daybed. She looked quite pale, and was sipping a cup of black tea. Her face lit up at the sight of him, and she started to rise. “Bay!”

He crossed the floor, sitting before she could rise, and caught her hand to kiss it firmly. “I had no notion you would arrive so soon, mama,” he said. “What was your hurry that you came on father’s demmed tugboat?”

She laughed. “You believe he convinced me to make a rush of it?” she said, setting down her cup. “Tush, no. I received a letter from Blanche, and a most bewildering tale of a pretty little maid to whom you were paying court.”

Bellamy knew it was ridiculous to blush, but his cheeks did so nonetheless. “Lud, mama! I was hoping she might be discreet.”

Isabelle sat up, touching his cheek gently. “You know you do not need to bind yourself to a woman, if you do not wish to, Bay,” she said. She lifted his chin, making him meet her eyes. “We do not mind.”

He gazed at her. She did not, and nor did his father. The shock of one had dazed him, but when Mama Isabelle discovered his affair with Rab Graham, their groundskeeper, some four years earlier, he had believed she would recoil from him in disgust. Instead, she had tried to conceal the affair from her husband, for fear that Bellamy’s father did not know and would not accept it. She protected him and cherished him as if he were her own blood.

“You might not, Mama,” he said, “but there will whispers and rumours and slander painted against our name. What little I can do to prevent that, I shall.”

“Little, he says.” Bellamy turned, startled, as his father’s voice. The Duke of Rutherglen was standing in the doorway, tapping the spine of a book against his palm. “Have you no notion of what a marriage is, boy? It is hardly a little matter.”

Isabelle’s hand wrapped around Bellamy’s. “Are you truly considering this? Could you love a woman?”

“I love women,” he protested quietly, “I love you and Grandmama, and Blanche also.”

His father shut the door quietly, and approached. “You know demmed well that is not what she meant.”

Bellamy looked at Isabelle’s hand, then up at her face. “There would be no need for children,” he said. “You have already done enough to ensure the line will continue.” He glanced down at her belly. “Indeed, do I see another…?”

Isabelle smiled ruefully. “I would blame your father,” she said as her husband sprawled down into one of the chairs. “He has proved himself to be most determined to populate all of Westfell once more.”

“Ha!” The Duke snorted. “You cannot blame me, you insatiable vixen.”

“Father!” Bellamy groaned. “There are some things a son should not know of!”

“Likewise, there are some things a father should never have seen,” his father retorted and Bellamy had the good grace to blush. It seemed a family tradition to stumble upon one another in most compromising positions. He studied Bellamy intently. “So this woman Blanche writes of, what manner of woman is she?”

Bellamy looked at him. “She is the manner of woman who seeks in a marriage exactly that which I seek,” he replied quietly. He could see understanding cross his father’s face. “She has no more inclination to be married than I, yet we both feel that needs must bind us to matrimony. Better two who walk in with their eyes wide open than two who stumble in blindly with notions of nonsensical romance.”

“Zooks, Jamie,” Isabelle murmured with a small smile, “Your son speaks sense. Where on earth did he get that?”

His father snorted. “I blame his mother. Demmed sensible creature, save that she wed me.”

Isabelle squeezed Bellamy’s hand. “You know it may not go as you expect or intend.”

Bellamy smiled crookedly. “Mama, I saw what became of you when you married father,” he said. “You are testament enough to things turning out strangely.”

Isabelle gasped, laughing, and his father snorted in amusement.

“Are you in earnest, boy?” 

Bellamy nodded. “I think so,” he said. “She and I understand one another well enough.”

His father and mother exchanged glances.

“We should have this young lady to dinner,” Isabelle declared.

“And this,” Bellamy said with a groan, “is what I was afraid of.”


	3. Chapter 3

There was precious little that made Bellamy uncomfortable.

His father being playful with his step-mother, he could tolerate, but every so often, the Duke of Rutherglen would turn soft as cream. He would dote on his wife, fetching her anything she desired, lavishing her with attention, even kissing her neck in full view of everyone.

If experience was anything to go by, Bellamy knew that in some five months, he would be welcoming another new sibling. 

It was just demmed inconvenient that she had found herself out only the day before Miss Dormer was due to come to dinner.

"You will ask him to behave, won't you?" Bellamy pleaded.

Mama Isabelle was reclined on the daybed, a closed book resting in her lap. "Lud, Bay," she said with a smile. "You know what your father is like with the prospect of further progeny. He feels himself quite the cock of the walk."

"Aye," Bellamy said with a quiet groan. "But must he be the cock of the walk in front of people? Some would say four children are quite proof enough of his virility. Must he continue to show off so with every one that happens along?"

His dear mama patted his hand. "It is not his virility he is proud of," she said. "It is the proof that I continue to be his." She smiled fondly. "He's a sentimental creature, your father, and each child shows itself as a testament of my continued affections towards him."

"The man is a halfwit if he cannot see he will never lose you," he said with an impatient huff.

"I will not disagree," Isabelle said, smiling past him.

"I leave you alone for but ten minutes and I am derided as a fool?" His father prowled into the room. "Damnation, woman!"

She widened her eyes innocently. "Is that how you would speak to the mother of your children?"

"It is how I would speak to you, you damned impudent vixen," the Duke said, perching on the edge of the daybed by her feet. He offered her a cup of tea, smiling fondly at her as she pushed herself upright. "Do I sense a conspiracy afoot?"

Isabelle glanced at Bellamy with a smile. "Only a desperate plea for propriety at dinner tomorrow," she said, accepting the cup from him.

"Lud, Bay!" His father looked at him in outrage. "You believe your mother would not behave?"

"Oh, I believe she would behave well enough," Bellamy retorted with a snort. "It is the parasite bent on clinging to her that I believe would cause embarrassment."

His father's eyes narrowed to slashes, and he laid his hand possessively on Isabelle's belly. "Is that any way to speak of your sibling?"

Isabelle leaned closer to murmur in his ear, "Jamie, dear, he refers to you."

His father looked at her in outrage. "But I am well-behaved."

Both Bellamy and his stepmother laughed to his father's indignation.

"I do confess, mama," Bellamy said wryly, "creating all these offspring has quite addled his brain."

Isabelle lifted her free hand to brush her fingers fondly through his father's hair, earning a doting smile. "I would not have him any other way," she said. "Will you behave for Bay's guest, Jamie? After all, if she is to be your daughter-in-law, you do not want to terrify her."

"Lud, mama," Bellamy said with a laugh. "I do not doubt he could not terrify her even in his foulest temper."

His father glowered at him, and Isabelle put her hand on his arm. "Bay, dear, I think it best if you flee now, before you receive a tongue-lashing."

He nodded, rising. He bowed cordially. "Father," he said. "Mama."

He was barely out the door, when he heard his father bark, "I do not know where the boy finds his insolence!"

He was still close enough to hear his mama's musical laughter. "I believe you should take a look in the mirror, then, your Grace," she said.

"Your Grace, is it?" The Duke was positively growling. 

"Oh yes, your Grace," she said, and Bellamy could hear the smile in her voice as he closed the door. 

__________________________________________________________________

 

It struck him as deuced remarkable how well Mama Isabelle could make his father keep the peace.

By the time Miss Dormer arrived in the evening, both the Duke and Duchess were the embodiment of respectable hosts, though no amount of powder could completely conceal the ruddy marks that adorned both sides of his stepmother's neck. His father was wearing his favourite white cravat and looking like the cat who not only had the cream, but the canary and the codfish too. 

"Will he behave himself?" Bellamy murmured to her, as his father strode over to the window to look down at the carriage.

"He will," she replied. "We spoke at length last night."

Bellamy looked at her ruefully. "Yes, so we heard."

 

To his amusement, his stepmother blushed as if it was a rare occurrence. "Jamie," she called to her husband. 

He turned on his heel. "Your Grace?" he said, a warm look in his eyes. 

Isabelle held out one hand. "Come support your wife."

He crossed the floor in four steps, capturing her hand and bowing over it. "As your Grace wishes," he said. He straightened up, and put his arm warm about her waist, then waved dismissively to his son. "Go and fetch your woman, then, boy. We will wait."

Bellamy shook his head fondly, leaving his father to show Isabelle to the couch in the drawing room, and headed for the door to greet his guest. It wasn't quite propriety, but he knew Miss Dormer would have to be accustomed to such a household if she was to be his wife.

Miss Dormer stepped down from the carriage, aided by Mingxu. Bellamy was unsurprised that she brought her guardian with her. If he had the excuse to have Rab by his side by day and night, he certainly would have taken advantage of the fact.

"Miss Dormer," he said with a welcoming smile, as she ascended the steps.

"My Lord Cathkin," she replied with a charming smile, holding out her hand. He bowed over it, barely brushing the lace of her gloves with his lips. "I trust I find you well."

"Well enough," he said. He inclined his head politely to Mingxu. "Miss Fei, I hope you are likewise."

The Chinese woman looked back at him, but he could see surprise in her expression, carefully concealed. "Yes, my Lord," she said.

It was a damnable breach of etiquette, he knew, speaking to the help, but when the help was also Miss Dormer's better half, etiquette could go bugger itself with a fishfork. 

Miss Dormer's expression when he looked back at him was one of genuine gratitude and warmth. She took Bellamy's arm when it was offered, and he escorted her into the house, praying that father had maintained his air of civility at least long enough to get to dinner.

To his great surprise, Mama Isabelle was seated on the daybed, and his father was standing by the mantle. They had clearly paused mid-conversation, turning to face the door when he and Miss Dormer entered. 

The Duke's arm dropped from the mantle and he turned fully, folding his arms across his chest in his most forbidding manner, but the Duchess rose, smiling warmly, a counterpoint to her husband. 

"Miss Dormer, I believe?" she said, crossing the floor and offering her hands at once to Miss Dormer.

"Yes, your Grace," Miss Dormer replied, curtseying elegantly. 

"The thundercloud you see behind me is my husband," Isabelle said, looking back fondly. "His Grace, the Duke of Rutherglen." Bellamy almost groaned when his father only nodded in greeting. Isabelle, though, drew back, looking Miss Dormer up and down. "What a lovely gown. Cantonese-made, unless I am mistaken? There’s a subtlety to the shape…”

Miss Dormer flushed. “I have not yet had time to get more fashionable gowns made,” she said.

“Nonsense,” Isabelle said at once. “Fashionable is uncomfortable. This style becomes you far better.” She smiled again. “Indeed, I would say you are a precursor to fashion. There is a flavour of the oriental slipping in where one would least expect it these days.” 

Miss Dormer looked both pleased and gratified.

To Bellamy's surprise, his father unfolded somewhat. "So, Miss Dormer, how do you find London?" he inquired. "Aside from demmed uncomfortable?"

Miss Dormer looked up at him. "Quite quiet, your Grace," she replied with a rueful smile. "I was raised in a busy shipping port, so London seems almost peaceful by comparison, at least the parts I have seen."

"The civilised parts," Bellamy said with a crooked smile. 

Miss Dormer slanted a look at him and murmured, "So they tell me, though I am inclined to suspicion."

Bellamy heard the Duke chuckle. "I like this one," he declared. "One must always have a woman with claws. It makes matters so much more interesting."

Miss Dormer flushed. "I meant no disrespect."

"Of course you did, dearie," the Duke said , smirking. 

"Husband," Isabelle said with light reproach, though she was smiling. Bellamy's father snorted in amusement, folding his arms again, as Isabelle patted Miss Dormer's hand. "Have no fear, Miss Dormer. You will find that those who live in this household share a similar, somewhat jaded view of polite society."

Miss Dormer looked from one face to another with open surprise. "Lady Eaglesham spoke well of you all," she offered.

"Of course she did," Bellamy said with a fond grin. "She knows us." He sprawled down into one of the chairs, lacing his hands over his belly. "And we paid her to say so."

"Paid her?"

"Lud, Bellamy," Isabelle said, shaking her head. "Allow her to become accustomed to us before you overburden the poor woman with sarcasm." She offered Miss Dormer a small, amused smile. "I fear we are not what you would call... proper society, Miss Dormer."

Miss Dormer's face lit in the lovely smile he had seen but twice. "Oh, good," she said. "I have had quite enough of proper society for the present."

Bellamy glanced at his father and saw the twitch of his lips and the brief, approving nod.


	4. Chapter 4

"I like her."

Bellamy looked at his father in frank astonishment. "Are you in earnest, papa?"

The Duke nodded. He was sprawled on the couch, with Isabelle nestled beside him. She had excused herself some half hour earlier to be removed from her more formal gown, and was presently looking soft and lovely in a flowing nightgown and silken housecoat. She also looked to be verging on sleep, her head resting on her husband's shoulder.

"She is not a little mouse," his father said, "and nor does she quiver or avert her eyes when speaking to her betters." His fingers were gently untangling Isabelle's hair, each pin that was freed dropping to rest in her lap. "The girl who was her chaperone, that was her bodyguard?"

Bellamy nodded. Miss Dormer's relationship with her guardian was private, and he saw no reason to shout it to the world, or even to his family. If he was to wed Miss Dormer, she might reveal such things in due course, but for the present, he would allow her that modesty. "She travels with Miss Dormer at all times. Miss Dormer says she is quite the formidable warrior."

"One would hardly think it to look at her," Isabelle murmured.

"A woman can be quite formidable given the incentive, m'dear," her husband said fondly, stroking a fingertip down her cheek.

"Mm." Isabelle agreed, all but lapsing sideways until she was curled up, her head resting upon his lap.

Bellamy watched his father's expression soften even more. It always astonished him how gentle and tender the Duke could be with his little wife, and how Isabelle seemed utterly unperturbed by it. He supposed it was not quite so different from the silly, warm feeling he had when he and Rab were alone.

"Do you think she will be a suitable Duchess, papa?" he asked, looking back at his father.

His father looked up from Isabelle, and Bellamy wanted to bite his tongue. For Miss Dormer to be Duchess, that would mean that James Goldacre was no more. "She will be a suitable wife to you," his father said after a long moment of consideration. "She will play hostess well, and entertain. A more modern Duchess, I believe."

"Papa, I did not mean to say..."

His father waved away his words. "Lud, boy, I did not imagine you were putting a pistol to my brow," he said with a crooked smile. "We must acknowledge that I am not immortal, as much as you might wish it so." He studied his son thoughtfully. "If you do wish to take this woman to wife, be sure that she is a friend to you above all else. It is all well and good to be wed, but if there is no affection, not even that of friendship, it will be a bitter end for all involved."

Bellamy looked down at his hands, then back up. "Is that how it was for you and my mother?"

The smile that crossed his father's face was brief and bittersweet. "Aye," he said. "Eliza and I were never a love-match, but we laughed, long and often." The Duke shook his head ruefully. "It was a wonder you were ever born, in truth, my boy."

Bellamy blushed to the roots of his hair. It was bad enough to acknowledge that his father and Mama Isabelle were quite virile indeed, but to think of his mother, little more than a virtuous portrait in his memory...

His father chuckled. "Heaven preserve you if you ever choose to take the woman to bed."

"Father!" Bellamy protested, flustered. 

His father gazed at him. "You have no intentions of begetting heirs, do you?" he said. Bellamy shook his head, cheeks aglow. "And is Miss Dormer aware of this?"

He flushed even further. "I-I have indicated that I do not want a wife in the biblical sense," he stammered. 

His father burst out with laughter so loudly that Isabelle jolted awake, startled and sleepy. 

"What's the matter?" she asked drowsily.

His father was still laughing, shaking his head. "Bellamy was coming over all scriptural," he replied, wiping his mirth-damped eyes. "Lud love you, boy. You do make me laugh." He helped Isabelle sit up. "Come, love. We should have you abed. You are quite spent."

His wife did not object as she was gently lifted up in his arms, her own arms going about his neck.

The Duke paused on his way to the doorway. "Speak to her, my boy. Make sure she knows all the clauses that will be bound into this marriage." He looked down at Isabelle, who was drifting to sleep again, a brief, sad smile touching his lips. "Going into a marriage with secrets will only cause distress in the future." He looked at Bellamy. "Believe me, tis wiser to air the linen before making the bed."

"I will think on it, father," Bellamy said quietly, lowering his eyes. "Good night."

"Good night, my boy."

 

______________________________________________________

 

It was an awkward matter to broach with the lady in question.

Bellamy hummed and hawwed about some way to bring up the topic in polite conversation, and finally gave in and forewent all politeness when they were alone but for Mingxu. They were taking the air in Hyde Park, walking side by side, Miss Dormer hand tucked in his arm. 

"Your father and his wife are very singular people," she observed.

"Impossible, I think you mean," Bellamy said with a rueful smile. "Heaven knows why they were nudged together by fate."

Miss Dormer laughed quietly. "He seemed... most attentive."

Bellamy looked at her. "Believe me, Miss Dormer," he said. "By comparison to his normal behaviour, that was positively ignoring her. He dotes about her, and she insisted he behave more appropriately in company." He shook his head fondly. "He always becomes more so when she is with child."

"Her Grace is gravid?"

Bellamy nodded, his mouth dry. It seemed fate had presented him with the perfect opportunity to speak. "She is so quite often," he said. "This will be the fourth child she has borne if all goes well."

"Oh?" She paused, taking a seat on a bench. He sat down by her, looking at his gloved hands, rather than her face. "You have brothers, then? Or sisters?"

"A share of both," he said. "Amelia is the eldest. She is come upon eight this year. Then there is Thomas, who is six, and wee Jamie who will be two in several months." He smiled fondly at the memory of his little siblings. "They are a charming horde."

"And your heirs, presently," she murmured.

"Presently," he echoed, wondering if that meant she would change that. He startled when her lace-gloved hand touched his own, and looked up to find her gazing at him. "Miss Dormer," he said tentatively, "I fear I may have implied matters than cannot be. I have no desire to provide my father with grandchildren nor heirs to his estate."

Her fingers curled about his and she looked at him out of calm, clear blue eyes. "My father has some half dozen children. My brothers are wed with sons of their own and my sister is coming of age this year. She intends to populate a small city with her offspring if her chatter is to be believed."

"And you, Miss Dormer?"

Her shoulders lifted in an elegant little shrug. "I have never given it a thought," she said. "To date, I have had no desire for such a thing."

"And if that changed?"

She met his eyes. "It might change for you also, my Lord. We cannot suppose what may be. We can only acknowledge what is."

He shook his head wonderingly. "You are a rare creature, Miss Dormer," he said.

She smiled. "It has been said."

He looked down at her small hand resting over his. "Tell me, Miss Dormer, does your mother remain in London presently?" he asked, looking back up at her. He saw her colour rise and she nodded. "If I may, might I pay her a visit?"

She searched his features, and he knew she would not ask his purpose. They both knew his intentions well enough, and if she was as steadfast as he in her opinions and desires, then it would be better for both of them to be bound to one another in new-sprung friendship, rather bound to others in unhappy wedlock.

"You would be welcome to do so, my Lord," she said finally. "I know she will be most delighted by the prospect."

Bellamy risked a glance at Mingxu. She was standing behind the bench, her hands clasped modestly before her, but he could see the tension in her face. He knew how difficult it must be for her, but she - at least - did not have to wed someone simply to save their family's reputation from disgrace. 

"I will call ahead," he said. "There are some matters that must be dealt with first, but please advise your mother of my visit."

Miss Dormer smiled sweetly. She seemed relieved, and he knew that feeling well. "I will do so, at once," she promised, as he rose. 

He offered his hand and helped her to her feet, and arm-in-arm, they walked onwards through the park. Perhaps they talked. Perhaps they did not. All he knew was that he would have to write to Rab as soon as was possible and let him know that soon, he would be taking a wife. 

They had discussed it, of course, and Rab had been quiet and pensive, but they both knew that the Rutherglen name had to be protected from any further scandal.

Yes, he thought. He would write to Rab, and ask him for his blessing. Only then could he wed Miss Dormer in good faith.


	5. Chapter 5

Rab's letter, when it arrived, was brief. 

It was no surprise, for Rab was not a great admirer of the written word, but it expressed him well enough: Whatever you choose, nothing changes between us. It was short, it was simple, and he folded it and carried it close to his heart when he finally approached the Dormer house.

Captain Dormer was presently still abroad, but his wife greeted Bellamy warmly, almost a little too warmly, gushing eagerly on what a pleasure it was to find a gentleman who paid such gentle court to her daughter. Miss Dormer was present and offered him a wan smile. It had clearly been a point of contention between her and her mother for some time. 

Quite what he said, he could not recall. He could remember the chill of the porcelain against his fingertips. He could remember the sharpness of the lemon cakes and the bitter flavour of the Chinese tea. Words, however, were a haze. He assumed he was quite witty, for both mother and daughter laughed, and when he was seen to the door, he was told that Miss Dormer's father would be most delighted at the match.

He mounted the steps of the carriage and stepped into the gloom.

"It's done then?"

Bellamy could not deny he almost shrieked in fright as his father's voice came out of the darkness. "By God, papa! Are you trying to kill me with fright?"

The Duke pushed the shutter on the window aside, allowing some light in. He studied Bellamy's expression. "Lud, but you are on edge, are you not?" he said. He motioned for his son to sit, then knocked the roof of the carriage twice with his stick. "Around the park, if you would," he called up.

The carriage rumbled away, clattering on the cobbles, and Bellamy leaned back, folding his gloved hands in his lap.

Several moments passed quietly enough.

Finally, he said, "It is done."

His father tapped his fingers on the head of his cane. "And you're happy?"

Bellamy looked blindly out of the window. "Please don't ask me that, papa," he said in a small voice.

"Ah." His father sighed. "Bellamy, if this marriage makes you so unhappy, do not do it."

"And give the gossips more fodder," Bellamy said, looking at him. "Papa, our reputation is precarious enough. How much more so would it be if I remained unwed?" He shook his head. "You know how society looks upon us. If we are to retain any respectability, it must be done, for the sake of our name. Thomas will carry on our legacy. We must be sure it is a good one."

His father was silent for a long while, and when he spoke, his voice was thickened with emotion. "Bay, I will not see you bind yourself unhappily. I forbid it."

"You forget," Bellamy whispered, "I chose this path." He looked down at his hands. "It will not be so terrible. Miss Dormer is a good woman, and she has no more interest in marriage than I." He raised his eyes to his father. "I believe I am saving her reputation as much as she is saving mine."

"Dem her reputation and ours," his father said quietly. "Bay, you deserve happiness."

"And can you give me that, papa?" Bellamy asked, his throat dry, his eyes wet. "Papa, you know how I would choose to be, if I could, but if that was known..." He shook his head. "We must all dress for the parts that people wish to see. Miss Dormer attires herself with a husband, and I with a wife."

"Bay," his father whispered.

"Papa, don't fuss," Bellamy said, staring blindly out the window and drawing himself upright. "Miss Dormer and I have an understanding. It will be quite well."

"For your sake and hers, I hope so," his father murmured. He leaned forward and offered his son his hand. "You will speak to me, if there are troubles. Do you understand?"

Bellamy laid his hand in his father's. "Thank you, papa," he said quietly. 

His father gazed at him. "I always knew he would be a good friend to you," he said, giving Bellamy's hand a firm squeeze, then sitting back. "Rab. You were barely a baby in arms when he was caught on the estate." He shook his head with a crooked smile. "You and he were troublemakers both."

"He and I..." Bellamy felt his features flushing. "Papa, even if I am wed, I cannot change who I am."

"So a sodomite and an adulterer?" His father clicked his tongue. "My boy, you are trying to outdo me in sins."

Bellamy couldn't help smiling weakly. "Is it adultery if you do not lie with your wife?"

"Heaven knows," the Duke said. He studied Bellamy pensively. "Will you tell her?"

Bellamy hesitated, then shook his head. "I have not yet decided," he said. "I have cause to believe she would not be shocked by such things."

"Because of her life in Canton?"

"Perhaps," Bellamy lied quietly. He knocked his head back against the seat behind him. "Why must matters be so complicated, papa?"

"Because life would be tiresome if everything was simple," his father replied. He drummed his fingertips on the cane once more, then inquired, "When will you wed?"

Bellamy shrugged. "By the end of the season, perhaps," he said. "The sooner it is done with, the better."

"I see you have my approach to romance," his father said dryly. "Will you attend Blanche's gathering next week?"

Bellamy grimaced. "I suppose we must be seen together," he said. "She loathes being stared at. Better as a betrothed than a spinster, though."

His father nodded. "We shall all attend, I think," he said. "Safety in numbers, eh?"

Bellamy nodded gratefully. "Thank you, papa."

 

 

________________________________________________

 

 

Blanche's guests were the crème de la crème.

Each one was attired beautifully, their hair decorated, their clothing cut magnificently. Even from the drive, they could see people glittering like jewels on the garden. For once, Blanche had elected to hold a garden party and the lawns were thronged with people. 

"I feel almost drab," Miss Dormer confessed, as the carriage neared the doors. 

"Nonsense," Bellamy said with a cautious smile. "You look delightful."

She was wearing another one of her subtle Cantonese gowns, the cut exotic enough to catch the eye, but subtle enough not to make it gaudy. Her tawny hair was drawn up and held in place with delicate jade combs that matched the fabric of her gown to perfection. There could be no doubting where she had been raised.

Mingxu was sitting silently at Miss Dormer's side, watching Bellamy from beneath her lashes.

If she was angered or distressed by her mistress's engagement, she made no indication of it, but then he suspected she made it her life's pursuit to be inscrutable. 

The carriage rattled to a halt, and a footman approached to open the door. Bellamy stepped down, then offered Miss Dormer his hand. Even before they set foot on the staircase that led to the terrace, he could feel eyes drawn to them. They were a striking couple, it was true, but it was more than that: he had been seen as an eligible bachelor for so long that whispers had started.

Now, new whispers would begin.

They were announced together, the Marquis and the Captain's daughter.

Fans fluttered, murmurs were exchanged, and Bellamy felt Miss Dormer's hand tense upon his arm.

"My dears!" Blanche hurried towards them, smiling warmly. She greeted them both. "I am so glad you could come."

Bellamy bowed over her hand. "It is our pleasure entirely, my Lady," he said. "I trust I find you well?"

The Marchioness laughed. "Indeed," she said. "I hear his Grace will be joining us this evening?"

"Somewhat later," Bellamy agreed. "Her Grace finds the summer heat exhausting in her condition. She is most keen to join the games this evening."

"And you, Miss Dormer," Blanche said warmly. "How do you find life as a soon-to-be-married woman?"

Miss Dormer smiled. "Much the same," she said, "though people talk with less pity in my direction. I feel as if I have accomplished a great feat."

"Lud, Miss Dormer!" Blanche clasped a hand to her bosom. "You have persuaded dear Bay to marry! That is quite the miracle. You might as well have walked on water across my duck pond."

Miss Dormer glanced up at Bellamy. "The persuasion was mutual, I believe," she murmured.

The Marchioness's expression was soft and silly when she looked at Bellamy. "I'm sure you will find yourselves quite happy," she said, then shooed them towards the grounds. "You must go and meet people, my dears. There are a number who will seek to bend your ears, I have no doubt."

She was not mistaken.

Bellamy's friends clustered about them, and though he could tell they wished to pry him away from the lady, to find out just what had convinced him to wed, Bellamy insisted it was only good manners to remain with his betrothed. Miss Dormer looked quietly relieved that he did not leave her, and by the time the gathering moved indoors, the curiosity seemed to be mostly sated.

"You have many friends," she murmured to Bellamy, as she settled on one of the chaises in the ballroom.

He shrugged modestly. "I like people," he said, "and it seems that people like me." He remained standing, looking about the milling room. "There will be dancing in here tonight, I expect, and there is usually a games room set up further down the hall. Which is your preference?"

Miss Dormer's eyes lit up. "I adore games," she said. "With months spent at sea, you learn to take great enjoyment from them."

Bellamy smiled. "Then we shall find you a table and you shall win us a fortune."

"You expect me to be a good player?" she challenged.

"I expect you to surprise everyone," he replied honestly. "M'dear, so many see the Canton-raised seaman's daughter in her pretty dresses. I do wonder how many bother to imagine that there is a quite clever mind behind it."

To his amusement, she blushed. "You are flattering, my Lord."

He waved a hand. "Mama once said the same thing," he replied. "But I don't waste time with flattery. I am merely honest."

Over the hullabaloo, he heard the tap of the announcer's staff.

"Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Rutherglen," he announced. Bellamy turned towards the staircase with a smile, but his expression froze, as the man continued. "The Dowager Duchess of Rutherglen and Mr Iain McFadzean."

Miss Dormer touched his arm. "Is something wrong?" she asked. "You have gone pale."

Bellamy stared at the man who was wearing the name of Iain McFadzean as well as the most fashionable of clothing, his heart pounding. Rab. It was Rab. Rab with Regina on his arm, his expression aloof and haughty to those who did not know him, but in truth wary and uncertain to those who did.

"Excuse me, Miss Dormer," Bellamy said hoarsely. "I must go and greet my grandmother."

If she protested, he did not notice nor care.

He wove his way through the crowd, reaching Regina just as Blanche did.

"Your Ladyship," Blanche said, smiling. "I had no notion you would attend upon us."

"No, indeed," Regina said, smiling warmly. "We did not know if we would be here in time. We came into dock but three hours ago."

Bellamy looked at Rab. No. It was not simply looking. It was gawping. Rab shifted from one foot to the other, keeping his expression unreadable, though there was a redness about his features. He was barely recognisable, in silks, a cravat at his throat, and breeches that clung to him like a second skin. He had shaved, too, his cheeks smooth, though he maintain a small beard about his lips. He looked downright dashing.

"And your companion, also?" Blanche asked. 

"My nephew," Regina lied cheerfully. "I had need of protection on the journey, and he was curious about London life. I fear he speaks little English, unfortunately. He is of northern stock."

"Bellamy speaks the northern tongue, does he not?" Blanche said. He barely noticed until she nudged him gently with her elbow. "Bellamy, will you not introduce me?"

He looked at her, tongue-tied, and saw the way her lips twitched. Had he been set on fire, he could not have been redder. "My lady?"

"Your northern cousin," she murmured, watching him intently. "Will you not introduce me?"

He glanced at Rab, handsome, dashing Rab, who was here because of him, who looked both devilishly right, but at the same time, downright uncomfortable. "May I present the Marchioness Eaglesham," he said in the Scots tongue. He seldom used it, but he knew it well enough. "Good God, Rab, what the devil are you doing here?"

"Not now, Bay," Rab murmured in the same language. He bowed stiffly at the waist, over Blanche's hand, then straightened up, looking her in the eye. "Tell her I'm pleased to meet her."

Bellamy informed her so, his voice shaking. From the expression in Blanche's eyes, she knew precisely whom she was looking at, and Bellamy's legs felt weak beneath him. He looked about himself. "I-I should return to Miss Dormer," he said regretfully, knowing if he remained a moment longer, he would want to pull Rab to him and hold him fast.

"Indeed you must," Regina murmured. "I would meet her, later, if you do not mind, my dear."

"No," Bellamy whispered, his mouth dry as he looked at Rab once more. By God, he looked beautiful, even uncertain as he was in this world he did not know. "No, not at all, Grandmama. You shall meet her forthwith."

Miss Dormer rose as he approached and put out her hand to touch his arm through his sleeve. "Bellamy?" she asked quietly. He looked at her, startled. It was the first time she had used his forename. She searched his features. "You look quite flushed. Are you all right?"

He managed to smile. "Only surprised," he said. "My grandmama and her companion were not expected." He offered her his arm. "Come. I will take you to the games room. It would be best to have you there early, lest you find yourself seated with unsavoury characters like my father."

She laughed. "Oh come, I am sure he is not so awful."

"The man is demmed competitive," Bellamy said with a shudder. He made certain to keep his attention on her, for it would hardly be seemly to ignore one's betrothed, not even for one's lover, on one's first outing with her. He leaned a little closer. "If you can beat him, please do so. It will make him huff and stamp, which is always amusing."

It would also be some small measure of repayment for unexpectedly setting Rab before him without warning. 

The games room filled quickly enough, for many of those in attendance were sporting characters. To Bellamy's relief, Rab and Regina were both absent, and he made himself remain close to Miss Dormer, watching her easily sweep the tables clear. She feigned astonishment each time, and delight.

A hand upon his arm some hour later made him startle, and he turned. 

Regina offered him a smile. "Might I steal you for a dance, dear boy?" she asked.

"You may," Bellamy agreed, with a glance at Miss Dormer, caught up in her latest game. "Miss Dormer, excuse me, if you please."

"Of course," she said without turning.

Bellamy glanced around as saw Mingxu hovering at the sidelines of the room, and knew his betrothed would be quite safe unattended. He let Regina lead him back to the room where the dancing was already underway, and they waited at the fringes for the dance to end.

"Why are you here, Grandmama?" he asked in a whisper. "And why did you bring him?"

Regina's fingers brushed his sleeve. "He was worried about you, my dear," she said softly. "We both were. Your father's letter about your engagement..." She shook her head. "You should speak to him yourself, Bay." He looked around, but was tugged back by her hand. "Once you have danced with me."

It was fortunately not too brisk a dance, and he knew the steps without thought.

"Did you find him handsome?" Regina's voice was a whisper.

He glanced at her. "Do you have to ask?" he said. "Where is he?"

She nodded ahead of them. Half-hidden in shadows, Rab was leaning against a pillar, watching them. He offered Bellamy a brief nod, his eyes never leaving them, and Bellamy shivered with the heat of it. It was impossible to ignore, and his steps became clumsy. Someone called out to him, telling him it was the shock of matrimony.

"Perhaps you should catch your breath," Regina murmured, as they wove their way out of the dance. "I shall find a new partner."

Bellamy shot a look at her that was both grateful and apologetic, for she had deposited him practically at Rab's feet.

His lover remained where he was leaning, half-hidden by the pillar, and Bellamy approached him.

"So this is your world, eh?" Rab murmured in Gaelic. "Very bright, very noisy."

"Why did you come, Rab?" Bellamy asked in a whisper. "You hate this kind of place."

"Aye," Rab murmured, "but I love you, you silly bugger." Bellamy felt a lump rise in his throat, his hands twitching by his sides with the need to touch the demmed man. Rab waved at the clothing he was wearing. "I even have your daft clothes on."

"You do," Bellamy said, his voice hoarse. "You look good, Rab."

Rab snorted. "So you say," he said, a warm spark in his dark eyes. "Come outside. I need some air. This place is too close for me."

The night was chilly, and the veranda was empty. Bellamy barely had one foot out the door when Rab had him pulled about and pinned with his back to the ivy-strung wall. Their lips crashed together, and Bellamy uttered a small, desperate sound, clutching at Rab's arms. They were both breathing hard when Rab drew back, resting his brow against Bellamy's.

"You should have told me you were unhappy," he said, his voice rough and rasping. "I would have come sooner."

Bellamy touched his cheek, his fingers trembling. "Rab, I could hardly ask you to be here, to see me preparing to wed someone else."

"And so, you were miserable and alone," Rab snapped. "Is that what you'd have of me? You'd have me enjoy the pleasant times, but when there are troubles, you would be alone?" One hand caught Bellamy's hair, pulling his head up. "You are mine, Bay, and that is for good or bad. De you understand me, you nancy bugger?"

Bellamy's eyes were burning, and it was all he could do to put his arms around Rab and hold him tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wouldn't hurt you for the world."

Rab rubbed the back of Bellamy's neck gently. "I know," he said gently. "And that's why I had to come. Because I wouldnae let you hurt either, not alone, not without someone to help you." He turned his head sharply, then pulled back, brushing loose leaves from Bellamy's coat. "Can you right yourself? For we will have company in a moment."

Bellamy nodded, smoothing his cravat and his hair in turn, and drawing a steadying breath. Rab's hand pressed brief and warm on his shoulder, then he drew away as the door opened and several ladies emerged in a flurry of skirts.

"Mama?" Bellamy said, startled. "Are you all right?"

Isabelle was leaning lightly on the arms of Regina and Miss Dormer. "Quite well," she insisted. "Only a little light-headed." She gently loosened herself from each of them with an apologetic look at Miss Dormer. "I thought it best we have a moment of privacy." She searched Bellamy's face. "You are all right?"

He smiled unsteadily. "I think I shall be," he said. He offered Miss Dormer a bow. "Forgive me, Miss Dormer. I have been remiss. My family is all but collected here, and I have failed to introduce you to them." He indicated to Regina. "This is my grandmother, the Dowager Duchess."

Miss Dormer flushed and curtsied politely. "Your Ladyship."

Regina looked at her in amusement. "Well, a lady coming into the house with manners," she said with a look at Bellamy. "What on earth have you done?" She caught Miss Dormer's hands and smiled. "I trust you have been warned that we are not a terribly formal house?"

"On several occasions," Miss Dormer admitted with a small smile. She glanced at Rab. "Your pardon, sir?"

Regina opened her mouth to speak, but Rab spoke first.

"Miss Dormer," he said, offering his hand. She laid her fingers lightly upon his and he bowed over them, then straightened up. "I hope you'll be a good wife to Bay."

She looked startled at his directness. "I-I shall strive to be so," she said. 

"That'll do," he declared, then turned and walked back into the house.

Miss Dormer watched him go, startled. "Who is that?" she asked, bewildered.

"That," Bellamy said with a crooked smile, "is my dearest friend. You have satisfied him, monosyllabic ruffian that he is." 

"Pay his manners no heed," Isabelle said with a small smile. She slipped her arm through Miss Dormer's. "Shall we resume our game?"

Miss Dormer nodded, still looking somewhat bewildered. "Very well," she said. "If you are feeling better?"

Bellamy watched them retreat back into the house, then looked at Regina. "The poor girl," he said quietly. "What has she agreed to marry into?"

Regina slipped her arm through his. "A happy family," she said. "Come, let us dance again, before your father drags your poor mother onto the floor."

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

The evening was proceeding.

Many people had traded the game tables for dancing in the ballroom, and it was close upon midnight when Bellamy finally managed to find Rab again. The man was leaning against the pillar once more, watching with detached interest, as pairs wheeled and danced.

He had not gone unnoticed, it seemed, for a young lady was standing several paces away, demurely fanning herself. 

Had Rab understand the secret language hidden in the fan, he might have found the woman quite shameless, but as it was, she was only a woman fanning herself.

Bellamy approached, leaning against the front of the pillar Rab seemed intent upon holding up. "You have caught someone's eye," he murmured, lapsing back into their shared tongue. "She has scarce taken her eyes off you in some ten minutes."

"More than that," Rab murmured, without even glancing sidelong. "She's been eyeing me like a piece of steak for half an hour and fluttering that wee fan of hers."

"That wee fan is to let you know she's available and interested," Bellamy said, trying to stifle a chuckle. 

Rab glanced at the woman, who blushed charmingly, and feigned modesty by averting her eyes. "I wonder if she'd think herself quite so interested if she knew I was thinking of turning you face about and taking you up the arse."

Bellamy had been sipping from a small glass of wine and coughed. "Rab!" he hissed, grateful that they were using a language that none other save their family would understand. 

Rab's expression was innocent, but his eyes were gleaming. In tones that sounded like concern, he continued, "I'd have to tie your ruffles around your mouth, y'know. You're a bit of a noisy wee thing when you're being given a good buggering."

Bellamy could feel his cheeks growing hotter by the moment and turned away, staring determinedly at the dancers. He took a healthy gulp of his wine. His heart was pounding, and as much as he wished he could pretend it wasn't tempting, Rab could be demmed persuasive.

He heard the ruffle of fabric as Rab straightened up against the pillar. "There's a couch over there," he said, a gesture of one hand encompassing the width of the ballroom. "High back. You could hold fast, kneeling there." He leaned around the pillar, his expression one of deceptive virtue. "No more grazed knees." He nudged Bellamy's arm with his elbow. "It's just the right height as well. I checked."

Bellamy tried his utmost to give him a stern, reproachful look, but the moment he looked at Rab, all he could think was how pleasant it would be to try. His breath was coming a little faster than he would have liked and he edged himself into the shadows with Rab, all the better to conceal the evidence of his response to the wretched man.

Rab grinned innocently at him. "You're flushed, Master Bay," he said. "Very flushed indeed."

"The wine," Bellamy said, leaning against the pillar.

"Aye," Rab said, chuckling. "I imagine so. Wee light thing like you. You cannae take your drink."

"Or randy bastards like you," Bellamy said, though he was smiling. He looked up at Rab. "I'm glad you came, even if you're doing your damnedest to make me embarrass myself."

Hidden by the shadow of the pillar, Rab's fingers brushed against Bellamy's. "It's hardly as if you need my help to do that," he murmured. 

Bellamy snorted with fond amusement. "By God, I would that I could kiss you," he murmured, his eyes drifting to Rab's lips. "You look..." He trailed off, lost for words.

Rab glanced down and made a face. "You'll have to get it off me tonight," he said. "I cannae even remember where half the buttons are fastened or how to undo the bloody things." He looked up, a half-smile curling one side of his mouth. "You'll have to consider it as unwrapping your betrothal gift. I didnae think to get you anything else."

Bellamy was glad he was not drinking in that moment, his eyes going unfocused at the thought. "You are a shameless brute," he murmured.

"Only sometimes," Rab agreed, then straightened up, frowning at the shadows.

"What is it?"

Rab nodded. "A girl," he said. "Not one of your big-dressed ones. A wee thing, all dark and odd-shaped eyes."

Bellamy turned to see Mingxu slipping out of sight. "Miss Dormer's maid," he said, wondering what she had seen, if she had recognised - as he had - that there was an unsuitable relationship abroad. He considered going after her, but if she saw, and if she knew, then she would tell Miss Dormer, and if Miss Dormer did not approve...

He turned back to Rab. "Have you rooms at father's house?" he asked.

"Aye," Rab murmured. "Will I see you in them this evening?"

Bellamy hooked his fingers briefly around Rab's. "Count on it," he murmured, before turning and moving off around the edge of the dance floor. The sooner he collected Miss Dormer and returned her home, the sooner he could be at home himself, and the sooner he could be with the one he wished to be with.


	6. Chapter 6

Bellamy was surprised by the attention garnered by his engagement to Miss Dormer.

They were invited to many more gatherings than would be considered normal, and by and large, such events brought Miss Dormer more out of herself. She would be a delightful wife and Duchess, Bellamy thought as he watched her talking and laughing. She had charm, wit, and manners that endeared her to all she met.

Some three weeks passed between their engagement and the matter of marriage.

All and sundry expected a grand wedding from the man known to be the embodiment of fashion.

Bellamy could not care less.

A chapel was arranged and a modest gathering planned, which was centrally made up of family and closest friends only. It was not to be a riotous celebration as some of his associates believed, for neither he nor Miss Dormer were inclined to make a grand spectacle. There would be a ball, some days later, held by Blanche in honour of their nuptials, but the ceremony itself was to be discreet and quiet. 

Bellamy stood before the mirror on the morning of the ceremony and gazed at himself.

Naturally, he had anticipated becoming a husband.

Each man was told it was expected of him at some point, continuing the family line legitimately and what have you. 

His father approached him and offered him a cravat. "I would say you could change your mind," he murmured, "but I fear it is too late for that."

Bellamy could not meet his eyes. "I know," he said quietly. He took the cravat, looping it about his neck and tried to tie it as neatly as he could. His hands were shaking so much that his father drew him about and tied the cravat for him.

It was an echo of a day some decade before, when he had done the same for his father. 

"She is a good woman," his father finally said, stepping back. "I have no doubt she will be a good wife."

"I know," Bellamy said quietly.

The Duke searched his features. "Will you be a good husband to her, Bay?"

"As best I can be," Bellamy said. He ran a shaking hand over his face. "Will Rab be there today? He did not say if he would come."

"If it would make matters easier, he will do as you ask," his father said. "If you would have him there, I have no doubt he would stand at your right hand."

Bellamy shook his head, uncertain. "I don't know, papa," he said. "I don't know if it will make matters easier or more difficult." He smoothed his cravat, turning back to look at himself in the mirror. "Lud, why can it not be done with already?"

"Because weddings are made to be a torment," his father said. "I shall bring about the carriage. Rab or no?"

Bellamy hesitated, then nodded. "Yes," he said. "He is to be as much a part of my marriage as my wife. He should be present."

His father nodded at once and left the room.

Bellamy drew on his coat and looked at himself once more in the mirror. He looked pale and drawn, not a happy groom at all. He slapped at his cheeks to bring some colour to them, adjusted the lie of his hair, then made his way for the door.

Rab was waiting in the carriage with his father, and though none of them spoke, Bellamy was comfortted by the presence of both of them.

It was but a short journey to the small Church.

"I will await you within," his father said, descending from the carriage and leaving him and Rab alone in the quiet of the carriage.

"Ready?" Rab asked.

Bellamy's lips trembled. "Not remotely," he said. "I hope this is the right course."

Rab leaned across the space between them, his hand coming to rest at the back of Bellamy's neck. "It may not be right, but it's necessary," he said. "You've argued yourself into this situation. You willnae argue yourself out of it now and disgrace both of you." He cuffed Bellamy's cheek affectionately. "It's not such a hardship. People wed out of necessity all the time. No one said you have to love her."

Bellamy nodded with a sigh. "You have hit the nail on the head," he said. "Come. We should go in. I must at least look the part."

Rab looked him up and down. "You'll do," he said.

"You are the embodiment of flattery," Bellamy snorted, swinging down from the carriage.

Rab laughed, following.

The chapel was quiet, and Bellamy was unsurprised to see his father had already sought out Mama Belle, who was seated in a cushioned chair, her hand resting on the swell of her belly. She had bloomed in the few weeks since Bellamy had sought Miss Dormer's hand, though she was easily wearied. 

Several of Miss Dormer's siblings were present also.

Bellamy had met most of them in recent days, though one brother was still at sea. 

Captain Dormer himself was expected to be present too. He and Bellamy's father had met when Miss Dormer insisted they have a family meal, and got on splendidly, after the Captain waxed poetic about one of his father's ships. Father was an easily-soothed beast: compliment his wife, his children, his ships, and he would be soft as butter.

Bellamy waited before the priest, taking a shallow breath and turning when the door opened once more to allow the bride to enter.

Miss Dormer looked resplendent in dusky pink. Her dress was elegant and modest, much more English than her usual attire, and her hair simply drawn up, decorated with small pink rosebuds. The only concession to her time spent abroad was a delicate golden pendant etched with Chinese symbols, threaded upon a scarlet ribbon.

She smiled at him, with such warmth and reassurance, that some little of the nervousness he was feeling dissipated. He bowed elegantly to her, offering out his hand. She laid her gloved fingertips upon his.

"My Lord Cathkin." 

"Miss Dormer," he murmured. "Shall we?"

She glanced sidelong beneath her lashes, and he was unsurprised to see Mingxu standing close at hand. The Cantonese girl inclined her head minutely. Miss Dormer looked back up at Bellamy. "We shall," Miss Dormer murmured.

And so, they were wed.

 

_______________________________________________

 

It was uncomfortable.

As delightful as the dinner had been in his father's grand townhouse, and as charming as his new wife was, Bellamy was grateful when the womenfolk swept her away to ready herself for her wedding night. He himself was the subject of amused looks when he seemed quite as flustered as his new bride.

"Here, lad," Captain Dormer pressed a snifter of brandy into his hand. "A man should go in with at least the pretence of confidence. Difficult when faced with my Rose, I have no doubt, but put some fire in your belly and you will be well."

Bellamy drained the glass in one mouthful, shuddering.

"Lud, man!" Edward, one of the brothers, eyed him warily. "How do you intend to be upon your feet if you drink like that?"

"He hardly intends to be on his feet, I think," another said. Bellamy wasn't sure which.

"Have mercy," his father interceded with a rueful chuckle. "Have no doubt your sister will be merciless enough."

though it was meant to stop the teasing, even saying that did little to comfort Bellamy.

"I need to take a pipe and some air, before I go up," he declared. "Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen."

He was unsurprised to find Rab seated out in the garden of the house, already puffing pensively on his pipe. His lover offered the pipe to him, and Bellamy took it gratefully, inhaling the pungent smoke.

"By God, they do not make it easier," he said after a moment. Lest anyone might be listening in, he switched to Gaelic. "What if she has expectations, Rab?"

Rab leaned back against the steps, propping his elbows on them. "You're her husband. You might have to. At least this night."

Bellamy stared at him, then ran a hand over his face. "I do not think I can," he confessed in a whisper. "She is lovely, and charming, but I feel..." He shook his head. "There is nothing there, not as there is between us."

Rab gazed at him. "Would you want to?"

Bellamy shook his head at once. "Not ever," he said quietly. "I am yours. You know that."

Rab rose from the steps and clasped Bellamy's shoulders. "Then you have to tell her now, before you go any further," he said. "You cannae bring her into a marriage unknowing of her fate."

"How can I tell of what we have?" Bellamy asked, wrapping his hand around Rab's broad forearm. "You know how it is commonly seen."

Rab cuffed his head fondly. "You dinnae need to tell her the details, you daft sod," he said. He knocked his brow to Bellamy's. "Now get your arse back inside before they start wondering if you've jumped the wall and run for the hills."

Bellamy snorted. "Run? Me? Lud, you rough baggage, you expect too much by way of exertion."

"Och," Rab said with a dismissive wave of one hand. "You have more than enough stamina these days."

Bellamy felt himself flush to his ears and punched Rab hard on the arm before retreating into the house, his lover's warm laughter following him. He was immediately surrounded by the other men who pushed and bullied him up the stairs, meeting the women halfway.

"Your lady awaits you," Mama Belle said, holding out her hands. He took them, bowing over them.

"Thank you, mother," he said gravely. She squeezed his fingers gently, then the women parted before him, and he drew himself up and walked the rest of the way up the stairs. 

The only saving grace was that they were not using the room that he considered his. One of the grander chambers with a fine view had been suitably decorated, and it was in a quieter corner of the house. He took his time, once he was out of sight of the thronged family and guests, and even when he reached the doors, he sat blankly in the window ledge opposite for a good five or ten minutes trying to gather his scattered wits.

When he finally approached the door, and rapped once with his knuckle, he heard muffled voices inside.

Mingxu, no doubt, taking care of her Mistress.

A moment later, Mingxu opened the door, stepping back with a low bow. "My Lord."

He ought to have bowed in return or made some indication of reassurance or acknowledgement, but his words failed him, and he simply stepped into the room. 

Miss Dormer was sitting in the bed, clad in a froth of white silk and lace that covered her from her neck to the blankets that hid her from the lap down. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with emotion. Her lips looked red and swollen, as if she had been biting at them in distress.

"My Lady," he said, aware of how stiff and uncertain he sounded.

She smiled just as unsteadily as he. "Bellamy," she said, twisting her hands together. "You..." She took a shaking breath. "You may leave us, Mingxu."

The maid withdrew and the door closed behind her.

Bellamy hesitated, then turned and locked the door.

"Is that necessary?" 

He looked back around at her. "I feel it would be wiser to be undisturbed," he said.

Her hands were clasped tightly together in her lap. "I see." 

Bellamy remained by the door, uncertain how to approach a lady who was abed. It was much simpler with Rab. They could sit together or wrestle one another into submission. It mattered now. With a lady, Bellamy had always been taught to behave well, but then he had seen the way his father behaved around his little mama, and it seemed that the rules were quite different.

He fiddled with the cuff of his sleeves.

Miss D... no. 

Rose. 

Rose was quiet for a moment, then finally said with a frankness that made him blush, "Well, we are wed. Do you wish to be a husband to me tonight? Or may I take the lace of this monstrosity off?"

"I-I..." Bellamy fidgeted. "I would not. Be a husband, that is." He looked up at her, and was startled by the relief writ on her face. "You do not object?"

"Heavens, no!" she said at once, emerging out from beneath the covers and disentangling herself from the ruffled shawl that had been wrapped around her. She sat back down on the bed, cross-legged beneath the covers, brushing a hand over her flushed cheek. A small flicker of a smile crossed her face. "I was concerned you might wish to do so. It is quite a relief to know I should not have feared it."

Bellamy stared at her and all at once, the reason for her flushed features, the brightness of her eyes, her bitten lips when he entered became quite apparent. She had been readying herself, lest she need to accept him as her husband, and she had not been doing so alone.

He approached the bed, his hands folded before him, and sat down on the opposite side of the bed, looking at her. "May I speak directly?" he asked.

She looked back at him calmly. "You are my husband now, Bellamy. You may ask me whatever you wish."

He hesitated, wondering how best to proceed. "Mingxu," he said finally. "She is not just your bodyguard."

Rose's cheeks darkened a shade. "No."

"Nor just your maid?" he offered.

Her eyes met his steadily. "No."

He inclined his head. "I thought as much," he murmured. 

She looked momentarily alarmed, then bewildered. “How?” she demanded.

“I watch, Rose,” he replied quietly. “I notice things others may overlook.”

Her knuckles were white. “Does the thought disgust you?”

“Would I have wed you, if it did?”

She looked down at her hands, squeezing them together tightly. “Some men have… strange tastes,” she said.

Bellamy gazed at her, then kicked off his shoes and pushed himself further onto the bed, until he was close enough to cover her hands with his own. “And some men are inclined as you yourself are,” he said quietly, his heart beating fast, “to seek the companionship of the same sex.”

She looked up at him, startled. “Mingxu was right, then?”

Bellamy smiled crookedly. “So she was paying attention, then,” he said. “I did wonder if she had thought anything amiss when she watched me at the ball.” He looked down at their hands with a brief smile. “You are as safe from my lecherous ways as your chair.”

Her hands loosened beneath his and she turned them to clasp his hand. “Is that why you chose me?” she asked quietly. “Did you know from the start?”

“I suspected,” he admitted. “Ones such as we, we must be wary and guard our thoughts and actions.” His fingers tangled with hers. “You do not know how many eyes are always watching, Rose.” He smiled ruefully. “I am afraid I may have espied a personal moment at Blanche’s the first day we met.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed. “Mingxu was always given a say in the men who approached me,” she said. “If I was to be wed, she wanted to be sure it would not be to a man who would do me harm or wish me ill.”

“And she allowed me to court you?” he said with a crooked smile. “Lud, I must thank her most profusely.”

“I would not be so hasty,” Rose said, laughing. “She thought you must be deficient in some way to be unwed at your great age.” Bellamy looked at her, affronted, and she fell back against the pillows with a delightful peal of laughter. “Well?” she asked. “Are you deficient?”

He pressed his free hand to his breast. “I was merely waiting for the rarest bloom of all,” he said, amused when she blushed, “An old maid.”

It was Rose’s turn to look offended, and she knocked him on the knee. “You are a cruel man to make such sport of your wife,” she said.

“Not if my wife began it,” he countered, smiling.

She plucked at his fingers, watching him. “Might I ask you something?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said.

“The man at the ball…”

Bellamy felt a stupid smile creep upon his lips. “He is to me as Mingxu is to you,” he said.

“Someone of your own rank?” she said in disbelief.

Bellamy stared at her, then burst out in laughter. “Rab? Of my rank? Lud no! The man was a child-poacher before my father employed him!”

“But he was there in society,” she said, frowning.

“Aye,” Bellamy said with a crooked smile. “He wished to give me courage to face the hordes. He came from our estates in Scotland to reassure me.”

“Oh.” She studied him thoughtfully. “He is not merely a passing fancy?”

Bellamy threw back his head laughing. “Zooks! I had not imagined that I would spend my wedding night discussing my lover with my wife,” he said, sprawling back on the bed, propped up on his elbows. “No, he is no mere fancy, m’dear. He and I have been living in debauchery for demmed near ten years.”

Her eyes widened in astonishment. “So long?”

He grinned boyishly at her. “Do I seem frivolous?” he asked. “Somewhat deficient in attention perhaps?”

Rose pulled a face at him. “You did not seem the kind to settle.”

“Not outwardly, no,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “Town sees the face it wants to see. Whether that is truly Bellamy Goldacre is another matter.” He tilted his head, watching her. “And you, m’dear. Your passing fancy?”

“Since the day she saved my life,” Rose admitted. “I had not thought to care before that, but she had, and it was only when we thought one another lost…” She shrugged. “We are bound, she and I.”

“Mm.” Bellamy considered her expression, her features when he entered the room. “So much so that she warmed your marriage bed, to ease your way, lest your husband was a villain and demanded his conjugal pleasures?”

Rose’s face went scarlet, her hands flying to her mouth. 

Bellamy grinned like a cat. “I thought so.”

Rose pulled a pillow from behind her and threw it at his head.


	7. Chapter 7

Of all the emotions to feel on the morning after his wedding, Bellamy had not imagined relief and happiness would rank high among them. He and Rose talked at length into the night, and as odd as it seemed, sleeping by her side did not feel in the least bit uncomfortable. 

He still woke early, as was his habit, when he heard the servants abroad in the house.

Rose was sprawled on her belly, her cheek resting on her forearm, where she had fallen asleep mid-conversation the night before. He felt no need to wake her, and instead rose from his side of the bed, retreating behind the dressing screen to don his clothing.

By the time he emerged, Rose was sitting up in the bed, stretching expansively.

"Good morning, wife," he said, tying his cravat.

"Husband," she said with a smile. "What are the arrangements for breaking of fast?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "To be sure we have not killed one another, we are to take breakfast with father and mother," he said. "I believe they wish to be sure we are not already lamenting our union."

Rose pushed back the bedding. "Will they have servants checking the bedding for... conjugal matters?" she asked, blushing as she spoke.

Bellamy snorted, sitting down in one of the chairs by the fire. "I hardly imagine so," he said, "but if you wish to make the illusion of deflowering for the servants, be my guest." He was well aware of the colour rising in his own face.

Rose looked thoughtfully at the bed, then rumpled up the sheets properly. "Servants are prone to gossip even more than ladies," she informed him. "Have you a pin I might use to add a little blood?"

Bellamy looked at her in amusement. "How very old-fashioned," he said, offering her his cravat pin.

Rose returned the pin to him moments later after smudging some blood from her fingertip onto the sheet. "I have learned to be wary," she admitted. "If servants see what need to be seen, questions will not be asked. If they do not see what they expect, they will speak of it. If they speak of it, then secrets may be revealed."

There was a grimness to her features that told him she did not speak lightly.

He closed his hand around hers as he reclaimed the pin. "You were betrayed?"

She met his eyes. "They did not realise the whole truth of what they saw," she said. "But it was enough. People were hurt in the backlash."

People.

From her expression, he could understand at once.

Mingxu.

"Then we shall have our illusion," he murmured, squeezing her fingers. He released her hand. "There is water behind the screen. Dress and we can join my parents, if that is to your liking."

Rose nodded with a small smile. "I believe it is," she said.

She vanished behind the screen, and Bellamy approached the mantle, using the mirror above it to ensure that his cravat was pinned neatly. He heard the splash of water and glanced over his shoulder. "Do you require a maid?" he called.

Rose was silent for a moment. "Unless you have any adeptitude at lacing a gown, you should fetch Mingxu," she admitted. "She will be outside."

Bellamy turned and looked at the screen in surprise. "Outside? How will she know to be there?"

Rose peeped around the edge of the screen. "What makes you think she will have left?" she asked. "Had there been any possibility that I would be in pain or distress, do you believe that she would have left that to chance?"

Bellamy stared at her. "She stayed out there all night?"

A gentle flush coloured Rose's cheeks. "She is my protector," she said. "If I had cried out in pain, no locked door would have prevented her from stopping it." She waved a hand around the screen. "Go! Fetch her! Else I will be naked for breakfast and that would be rather more awkward than I would like."

Bellamy nodded hastily, crossing the floor to the door. He unlocked it, and opened it carefully. Rose was correct. Mingxu was sitting silently, cross-legged, before the door, and she turned her head to look up at him. 

"Your Mistress would like your help to dress," he said. "I have no notion how to lace a lady's gown."

She unfolded gracefully and bowed. "Will my Lord be waiting in the chamber?"

Bellamy pulled the door wide. "I will," he said.

The Chinese woman studied his face for a moment, then walked into the rooms, immediately making her way behind the dressing screen.

Bellamy closed the door after her, and heard her murmur to Rose. They were speaking in a language he did not recognise, which he could only imagine was Chinese. Mingxu did not trust him to ask after Rose's well-being in English, it seemed. 

He returned to one of the seats and sat down, folding his hands over his middle.

It was some time before both women emerged, but when they did, Rose was elegantly attired and her hair was drawn up in a graceful knot. Mingxu stood just shy of her, her hands folded within her sleeves.

"You are ready to take breakfast, then?" Bellamy said, rising and offering his arm to Rose.

she laid her hand upon his sleeve. "I am," she said. "Though I must know: will we be teased?"

Bellamy grimaced. "It depends how well-behaved my father is inclined to be," he said. He looked to Mingxu. "Will you join us?"

Mingxu drew back, clearly surprised. Her eyes flicked to Rose.

"Mingxu will rest," she murmured. "There was a room put aside for her use. She will join us later."

Mingxu bowed her head, clearly relieved and grateful. 

It was not until they were out of earshot that Bellamy murmured, "Did she sleep at all?"

Rose shook her head. "Not until she knew what had come to pass," she replied quietly.

"She no longer fears I intend you harm?"

A mischievous smile touched Rose's lips. "She knows my virtue is more likely intact in your presence," she whispered, leaning close that no one else might hear. "You notice she left me entirely in your care."

Bellamy glanced back over his shoulder. "Lud," he said. "I must do my best to ensure you remain unsullied, then, for I would not have her change her mind."

Rose squeezed his arm lightly through his sleeve. "You will do well enough," she said.

They descended the staircase, and he drew back to allow her to enter the dining room first. He was unsurprised that his father was already sitting at the table, but he had not anticipated his stepmother's presence, for Belle tended to sleep often while gravid.

"Good morrow," Rose said with a bright smile that was all the lovelier for being true.

The Duke rose from his chair, bowing deeply. "Mrs Goldacre."

Rose laughed. "Your Grace," she said with a curtsey.

"Zooks," Bellamy's father snorted. "She's bound herself to us and still, she calls me 'Your Grace'."

"You are still a Duke, Jamie," Belle murmured with a smile. She motioned them both closer. "Come, join us. I would rise, but I fear I am having some trouble." She patted her belly, which seemed to have expanded twice over since Rose had first met them.

Two of the servants moved closer, drawing out chairs for Bellamy and his wife, facing the Duke and Duchess. Bellamy let Rose sit first, then took his own seat with a quick, encouraging smile for her. 

Only once the food was laid out before them did the Duke dismiss all the servants but Henry with a wave of his hand. Rose glanced around in surprise, for it was much more common to keep at least a maid or two to hand.

"I trust your night was spent comfortably," he said at once to Rose, and Bellamy felt his cheeks colour.

Rose folded her hands together modestly. "Very much so," she said. "Your son is most gracious."

Bellamy prodded at his plate. "Could we not keep such matters until after we have eaten?" he inquired indignantly. 

"I hardly imagine we shall have the chance," his father replied tartly. "We have this demmed ball that Blanche has arranged for you, and there are already a stack of letters that will take all of your time to deal with. I have no doubt you will be invited to a dozen houses to show off your little wife. Where, pray, am I to find time to speak to you both without distraction?"

Bellamy snorted. "You just wished to put me off my eggs," he said.

"He will only put you off if you allow him to," Rose said, touching his sleeve lightly. She looked across the table at his father. "Have no doubt, your Grace, that your son is disposed to be as good a husband to me, as I am to be a wife to him."

His father looked at her. "Yes, I imagine that is the case," he said. "My son is very adept at doing his duty."

"Father!" Bellamy groaned. 

"Forgive my husband," Mama Belle said, taking up her cup of tea. "I fear he is quite forthright."

"It seems that his blood is strong, then," Rose observed, "for I have seen much the same in his child."

Bellamy could not have been more relieved when his father laughed aloud.

"You are quite happy in this arrangement, then?" the Duke said, "if I am to be quite forthright?"

Rose looked at Bellamy, and he turned his hand to squeeze her fingers gently. "Yes," she said at once.

Bellamy nodded. "I think we are," he agreed.

It was almost embarrassing how pleased his parents looked. 

The rest of breakfast was much more civilised, without his father needling them and prodding the still-new relationship as if he could poke holes in it. Bellamy could have kissed Mama Belle when she gave a groan and insisted that her husband take her back to her bedroom to rest.

Bellamy led Rose through to the study, where their letters had been gathered, and threw himself down in one of the chairs. "Lud, I could throttle the man," he said with a rueful laugh. "I would beg his pardon, but I have no doubt I would need to do so for every time you crossed his path."

Rose smiled, taking up several of the letters laid on the table for them. "He is not so bad as you believe," she said. "My father's companions in Canton were often men of the East India Trading Company. As civil as some of the Captains could be, when they imagined the ladies were not present..." She shook her head with a crooked smile. "I fear I know many words that do not become a lady."

He opened one of the letters. "Months at sea would not have helped, I expect?"

"Heavens, no," she agreed. "Sailors forget themselves, even when the Captain's wife and daughter are aboard." She touched his arm. "Tell me, have you ever met Browning? Third son of the Marwich?"

"Old Saltface? Of course!" Bellamy said with a grin. "He was in the upper class when I was at school."

"He would send his boy to me with a shilling every time he knew I heard him swear," she said, her eyes dancing. "By the time I arrived in London, I had enough to afford a quite lovely new dress."

"Mama Belle might find that a useful technique to tame father's tongue," Bellamy said with a chuckle. "The man can be quite explosive from time to time." He turned when a floorboard creaked behind him, half-expecting his father to be standing there, glowering, but it was Rab instead, standing in the doorway. "Ah! There you are!"

Rab had not dressed himself up formally, in naught more than a shirt and breeches. He offered them both a bow. "I didnae think you would be up yet, my Lord," he said.

Bellamy frowned, rising to approach him. "None of that nonsense," he said. "Come. You need to meet my wife properly."

Rose immediately offered her hand, not palm-down as was ladylike, but held out to be shaken, as was much more fitting between men. "Mr Graham," she said. "Bellamy has spoken very well of you."

Rab looked at her hand uncertainly, then back at Bellamy, who nodded. "And of you," he said, clasping her hand briefly and carefully, as if he feared doing her slim hand some damage. "I didnae mean to be in your way, my Lord. I just wanted to be sure you were both well."

Bellamy clapped a hand to his shoulder, frowning when Rab stepped back out of his reach. "We can talk this evening," he said, wondering if Rab feared that his wife would suspect their relationship from such casual touches. 

"If you wish," Rab said. He bowed formally. "My Lady, I hope you'll be happy."

He was gone almost as quickly as he had appeared.

Bellamy stared after him. "Damnation," he murmured.

Rose pressed her hand to his. "Go to him," she said. "I have spoken to Mingxu. You must speak to him."

Bellamy hesitated but a moment, then bowed over her hand and kissed it quickly, before hurrying after Rab. He caught up with him outside the door of the room that had been allocated to him.

"Rab."

His lover stopped, but did not turn immediately. "You should be with your wife, Bay," he said quietly. "Less than twenty-four hours wed and you have left her already."

Bellamy caught his shoulder. "You know where my heart lies," he said. "Now, so does she."

Rab turned, startled, and looked at him. "She knows? Of us?"

Bellamy nodded. "Aye," he said softly. "Rab, what I told you before. It remains true. This changes nothing." 

By God, he wanted to embrace him, but here, now, in the house where his wife sat downstairs, and his parents were only a staircase away, and any servant might see them, he knew he could not. He put out his hand though, and Rab clasped it so hard, as if it were a lifeline.

"I hope you are right," he said, then drew back his hand. "Get back to your wife, Bay. That's where you must be now."

Bellamy curled his hand, rubbing his thumb along his fingers. "We will talk soon," he said. "Very soon."

Rab smiled, brief and taut, and nodded. "Soon."


	8. Chapter 8

Being wed was a busy affair.

More and more, Bellamy was regretting that he had not taken his father’s advice to escape to Bath or to Colchester or some place other than London. 

It seemed that every man and his dog had a need or some pressing desire to meet the new Mrs Goldacre, even though half of the demmed people had met her already when she was still just Miss Dormer. 

It hardly seemed like that she would change so dramatically, and unless they imagined she had shed her skin and become something new entirely, he had no notion why they were so much the objects of everyone’s attention.

When they were not invited out to take tea, there were private dinners and gatherings here and there. It was four days after the wedding before they were able to take dinner with his family again. Regina and Rab were both in attendance still, though Rab seemed more taciturn than usual.

It was not for want of closeness. 

Bellamy slipped to his room each evening to speak with him, though Rab said little and they did not touch nor pursue intimacy, not with servants abroad and his wife but one level below. There would be time in enough for intimacy on their return to Westfell.

He told Rab tales of his day and Rab smiled briefly, shook his head, and told him that this sparkling world was beyond his understanding. 

They were to all eat together, though Mingxu refused adamantly to take a place at the table. It was not her station she insisted. The fact she stayed in the room, a silent guardian over Rose, did not go unnoticed. 

Bellamy wondered if that was what drove Rab to rise from the table after but one course.

“Excuse me, Master Jamie,” he said, without so much as a look at Bellamy. 

He was twisting the napkin between his hands, and Bellamy felt the mortal sting of shame. Of course Rab would not want to sit at his master’s table. He had no notion of how to deal with the proliferation of dishes, silverwear, glasses and bowls. 

The Duke nodded at once. “Would you have something brought up, Rab?”

Rab set down the napkin. “No, your Grace,” he said, lowering his eyes. “I havenae a taste for anything, this evening.” He stepped out from the table, offering an awkward boy to Mama Belle, Regina, and Rose. “Your pardon, my ladies.”

Bellamy turned in his chair, catching his wrist as he went by. “Rab…” The offer to accompany him dried up in his throat at the blank look in his lover’s eyes.

Rab looked at him. “Your dinner’ll be cold, Master Bay,” he said. “Best eat it now.”

Bellamy’s hand fell away, and he turned, uncertainly, back to his platter. The table was quiet, unnaturally so, as if each of the people there knew what had come to pass, yet was unsure if any other did, and thus was unsure how to broach the matter. 

Rose, seated to his left, reached over to touch his hand lightly. “Bay?”

He drew on his best smile. “He is merely tired,” he said. “London does not become him.” He drew his hand back from hers. “You should eat, m’dear. We have Blanche’s ball tomorrow evening and I would not have you half-starved before it.”

His own platter was left half-consumed, and as soon as he was able, he excused himself to seek out Rab. The man was not in his chamber, so Bellamy ventured out into the rain-drenched gardens, and spotted him under the sheltered alcove, near the back gate, the glow of his pipe illuminating his features strangely.

Bellamy was wearing naught but his breeches and shirt, his housecoat abandoned within, but he did not care how cold nor wet he might be as he approached his lover.

“You were not in your room,” he said foolishly. 

Rab stepped further back into the alcove in silence, leaving room enough for Bellamy to fit in beside him. He drew on the pipe, the tobacco glowing warmly.

Bellamy rubbed his cold, damp hands together. “Is something amiss, Rab?” he asked quietly.

Rab did not look at him. “This place,” he said. “How can you stand it? So many people all crammed together so tight. It’s no right.”

Bellamy nodded unhappily. “I knew you would not like it here,” he said. “The city is not the place for men of the country.” He hesitated, then touched Rab’s arm. “I’m grateful that you came, Rab, truly.”

Rab looked at him. “You have your part to play, Bay,” he said quietly. “It disnae mean I can stand to sit by and watch it.”

“That is all it is,” Bellamy said in a small, tired voice. “A part.”

Rab tipped up his pipe, pouring out the ashes, and knocked the bowl gently against the wall. “Aye,” he said quietly. “But you’re a good actor, Bay.” He looked away with a small sigh. “I’d be getting in, were I you. You’ll catch your death out here.”

“Rab…”

Rab shook his head. “I’m tired, Bay,” he said quietly. “This place is wearing me down. Just… leave me be, eh? Just for a wee while.”

Bellamy felt like he had swallowed broken glass. “I love you, Rab,” he said unhappily.

Rab neither looked at him, nor even nodded. “I know,” he said, then walked out into the rain across the muddy garden.

Bellamy leaned against the wall of the alcove. 

Rab had been so strong for him, when he needed it, for the sake of the family, for the sake of their name, but now that it was done, now that it could not be undone without disgrace and shame, it was another matter.

Still, as unhappy as it made him, he would do as Rab asked. They did not see one another the next morning, even over breakfast, and even when he, Rose and Mingxu were readying themselves to go to the Eaglesham ball, there was neither hide nor hair of him to be found.

“I’m sure he will be fine,” Rose said quietly as the carriage carried them onwards.

“I hope that is so,” Bellamy replied, turning over his gloves in his hands. Over and over and over. He didn’t want to be going to a ball. He didn’t want to be married to a woman. He didn’t want to be laughing and smiling and celebrating when his lover was drawing away from him, as if they were done.

They could not be done.

It was impossible and unfair and cruel to both.

Bellamy knew he loved Rab. It was a simple as that, as simple as breathing. And he knew Rab cared deeply for him. Ten years of fornicating and playfulness and love could not be undone just because there was a woman bound to one of them. It could not be so easily broken. Could it?

He did not know how he managed to get through the ball, so lost in his thoughts. His feet carried him through the dances. His mouth was witty and clever, and many people laughed, though he had no notion as to a thing he said.

All the same, he was aware of his wife watching him with concealed concern.

They spoke, sometimes, in the small hours of the night, while playing at being husband and wife. She was a kind woman, and astute when it came to the matter of secret affairs that would be considered a scandal. 

Still, she was wise enough not to broach the matter until they were departing.

It was late and the streets were dark and quiet as they made the journey back to the townhouse in Scotland Yard.

Though normally, Rose would sit with her back to the horses, Mingxu at her side, this time she sat beside Bellamy, facing forward, and threaded her arm through his. 

“I am sorry you are not happier,” she said quietly.

“I am happy enough,” he protested.

She looked at him. “No, you need not pretend,” she said. “You may be able to laugh and smile before your peers, but I am beginning to see the true Bay Goldacre, and he is not happy at all.” She clasped his hand. “If you would, I will talk to him. I know you would not betray my confidence, but perhaps he needs to hear before he truly understands.”

Bellamy looked at their joined hands. “I would not have you reveal secrets that you wish to have kept,” he said. “You know of me by my own choice. I could not tell him of your relations, not when I know what damage has previously been done.”

Mingxu said something soft and sharp in Chinese, and Rose raised one hand to soothe her, replying in the same language.

Bellamy could well guess what the matter was. “She only mentioned that you had been harmed because of malicious whispers,” he said quietly. “Naught of the nature of the incident. That you were wounded was enough.”

Mingxu’s expression was taut, her eyes narrowed to dark slivers. “And this is your secret now to keep,” she said. “I do not seek any man’s pity.”

“Nor would I give it, if it were not welcome,” Bellamy replied.

Rose sighed. “It is not the matter here,” she said. “The matter is that he is unhappy, and he does not understand why we are not more so.” She closed her fingers around Bellamy’s. “I will speak with him, if you wish it, and make it clear that I have no intention towards you of any kind.”

“He knows,” Bellamy said quietly. “And he knows that even if you did, those intentions would not be reciprocated.”

Rose shook her head with a small smile. “I know a little of that kind of man,” she said. “It does not matter what is said to him. What matters to him is the evidence of his own eyes. He has seen me on your arm. It will naturally concern him that I will woo you away. By putting you at a distance, he is trying to make matters simpler.”

“He’s a demmed fool,” Bellamy said. It was meant to be a shout, but it came out as a shaken whisper. 

Rose leaned against his arm companionably. “I will speak with him at once,” she said. “I will tell him that he has more chance of ravishing me than you have, and if that ever happened, I would give Mingxu leave to have your child and raise it to be Emperor of China.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened and he looked at her. “You would say that?”

She smiled. “Do you think he would listen more if I used the word ‘fuck’?” she asked.

Bellamy laughed helplessly, bewildered. “Lud, you are one of a kind.”

“So I should hope,” she said. She threaded her fingers between his. “We are to be husband and wife, Bay,” she said. “We must do what is best the one for the other. If that means I am to use profanities upon your sodomite lover to convince him that my intentions to you are wholly free of fornication, then a lady must do what she must.”

He stared at her for a moment, then looked at Mingxu. “Do you find she is often like this?” he inquired.

Mingxu’s mouth twitched in a sparing smile. “No,” she said. “She is usually worse.”

“I do not disbelieve it,” he admitted ruefully. “Very well. If you believe you can talk some sense into him, it would be much appreciated.”

The rest of the journey was made peacefully enough, and they hurried into the house as quietly as they might so as not to disturb Mama Belle when she was at rest. Mingxu helped Rose out of her gown, while Bellamy lay on the bed and gazed at the canopy, until his wife crawled under the covers beside him.

“I shall speak to him before breakfast,” she informed him, sitting amid the covers and tying her rags into her hair. “Better we have matters clarified sooner rather than later.”

He blindly patted her upon the leg. “It is much appreciated,” he murmured.

She smiled at him, and finished tying the rags in her hair before she snuffed out the candle.

He lay in the quiet darkness, only distracted from his thoughts by the sound of her quiet breathing, until he finally drifted to sleep.

Such a late return from the ball, and too many days of running about like a headless chicken had left him exhausted. He slept late, late enough that he was roused when his wife shook him awake. She fully dressed and looked quite fresh as a daisy, but distress was writ upon her face.

“He is gone!”

Bellamy squinted at her, confused and half-asleep. “Your pardon?”

“Mr Graham,” she said. “I went to his chamber, but he was not there. His Grace did not know either, but one of the men below stairs said that he was taken to the docks yesterday. He is gone, Bay!”


	9. Chapter 9

Bellamy was pacing back and forth in a fury.

The servants had recoiled from the room in panic, for it was never Master Bay's way to give way to temper. It was his father's nature, that was true, but none of them had seen Bellamy distraught before, and none knew quite what to do.

He did not give a damn for their thoughts.

Rab had run off without a word.

He did not even know if the demmed man had run for home, or if he had done the foolish and jumped aboard some ship to the colonies, and the thought was making his head swim. He could not think. Reason was all but gone, and he could not think. 

His wife was hurrying this way and that. She was in the room one moment, then she was gone, and then she was back again, closing the door against the world. 

"Bay," she said softly. "Bay, be at peace."

He whirled on her. "How can you ask that of me?" he snarled. "I do not even know where the idiot villain has shipped himself off to!"

Rose approached him fearlessly. "You said yourself he was not comfortable in this place," she said, reaching out to touch his arm. He brushed her hand aside. "Bay, in God's name, breathe! He will have returned to the place where he feels most comfortable."

"What do you know of it?" he demanded, shying back from her like a hunted animal. "You scarce know the man!"

"I know he came to a place that he loathes to offer you his support," Rose said calmly. "I know he is not likely to have sent himself anywhere that you will not be, if he loves you half as much as you love him."

Bellamy stared blankly at her, then turned away, pacing once more. 

A sharp rap on the door preceded the entrance of his father.

"There was a ship bound for Leith yesterday," he said without preamble. "He was seen heading north."

Bellamy's legs shook beneath him, the relief tearing the air from his lungs. "Good," he whispered hoarsely, bracing himself against the mantle. "That's good."

Rose looked at him with concern, then at his father. "Your Grace," she said, "I know it is considered unseemly, but might you be kind enough to let it be known that your son and his wife have decided to seek some private retreat in the estates in the north, to better known one another?"

"Seemly be demmed," the Duke said curtly. "There is a ship due to depart with the tide on the morrow. I have sent forth a request for passage, and couriers are on their way to Edinburgh presently to have the house made ready for a brief stop."

Bellamy wanted to thank them both, wanted to cry out, wanted to do anything but stand numbly by the mantle. There was a glass resting there and he stared at it, shimmering crystal. He unfolded one finger and pushed it, and it fell, end over end, and shattered on the hearth.

He heard them speaking, but he paid no heed to them. 

All he knew was that all at once he and his father were alone in the chamber, and Rose had closed the door quietly behind her. 

"Bay."

"He left, papa," Bellamy said, his voice trembling. He felt like a child lost in the woods. "He left without a demmed word. Would it have been so difficult to say that he was intending to depart? Would it have been so difficult?"

"Perhaps for him it was," his father said quietly. "Rab is not the most vocal of men, Bay. You know that."

"Aye," Bellamy said unhappily. "But I did not think I had grieved him so, not until after it was too late to stop the wedding."

His father laid his hand upon Bellamy's shoulder. "He has no notion of what manner of wife you have found for yourself," he said. "Did you tell him that she has no intentions towards you, but of your shared well-being?"

"Of course, papa," Bellamy said quietly, "but devil take the man if he disbelieved it."

The Duke nodded gravely. "Rab is the kind to believe what he sees over what he hears," he admitted. "Even as a child, he did not believe I intended to house him and clothe him until he was accommodated and dressed."

"How do I make him understand, papa?" Bellamy asked in a small voice. "How does he not know that he is to me as Mama Belle is to you?"

"Alas, my boy," his father said, "that is for you to find out. I have enough to solve with the riddles of the female mind. Your love is your own riddle." He clapped Bellamy's shoulder firmly. "Your wife has been most adamant about finding him for you. I do not know how you have found such a match, but she is a fine one."

A brief, wan flicker of a smile tugged Bellamy's lips. "She is indeed," he said. "I would that Rab would meet her properly and know it also." He turned his face away, blinking hard to keep from unmanning himself. "I should make arrangements. I-I had no intention of leaving town so soon."

"Write your letters," his father advised. "I will see them issued. You are a man new-wed. No one will question that you wish to have some privacy with your wife."

Bellamy nodded gratefully. "Will you and Mama Belle and Grandmama return shortly?"

"By carriage," the Duke replied. "Your mother is still inclined to sea-sickness. That should allow you some fortnight of privacy to deal with your marriage and affairs."

Bellamy nodded again, sinking down into the chair by the fireplace. 

His father vanished from the room, and almost as soon as he was gone, Rose returned, followed by a maid bearing a hearty breakfast for them to share. Though he had no appetite, his wife watched him - hawk-like - until he had eaten sufficient for her approval, and once the dishes were cleared, she set him to work upon his letters.

Had she not been there, he had no doubt he would have gone to the stables and taken his father's best horse, and fled north. He hated riding, loathed it with every fibre of his being, but he had rode from London to Westfell once for Rab, and if he had to do it again, he would have.

But no.

Now, he had a wife and a facade to maintain, and even if he chose to go by horse, it was likely much safer by ship with carriages awaiting them for each stage of the journey.

Each letter was written automatically, with barely a thought put into it. If they came across as distracted, he neither knew nor cared greatly. Each was sealed. Each was handed down to his father's man. Each was issued.

Rose and Mingxu were dealing with their possessions. Rose was quite adamant that none but Mingxu should deal with her private chest, and had he been feeling more himself, Bellamy might have made enquiries about the flush of colour in her face when she shooed the housemaids away from it. 

He simply went through the motions throughout the day.

Mama Belle insisted he join them for lunch, though he could not recall what he ate, and when he retreated to bed, he stared blindly into the darkness, unable to quell the bitter, sick feeling in his belly.

They were at the docks shortly after ten o'clock the next morning, and aboard by eleven. The journey was expected to take little over a day and a half, with brief stops at ports upon the east coast, working north.

Unlike Mama Belle, Rose was a natural aboard the ship. 

She took Bellamy's arm and they promenaded upon the deck.

He knew she meant it as a kindness, to distract him, and he let her. She asked of the coastal places they were passing, and when he was able to borrow a map from the crew, he let her see the course they were charting. Indeed, her knowledge of marine navigation proved far better than his own, and she pointed out lighthouses and markers than he would otherwise not have noticed.

It was a merciful diversion, and he could not have been more grateful for it.

As twilight fell, after a brief, simple dinner in the Captain's cabin, Rose retreated to the bunk she had claimed. Bellamy had been allocated a hammock in the same small chamber, but he was in no mood to sleep.

Mingxu was sitting in the cabin. She had laid a cushion upon the floor beneath the small window and was sitting with her back to it, her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap. 

She had spent much of the journey there. Rose had made murmurs indicating that as far as they had travelled, Mingxu still bore a great fear of the ocean. It spoke of her affection that she had braved such a voyage from Canton simply to remain at Rose's side.

Bellamy walked a revolution of the small cabin, restless and exhausted.

Mingxu opened her eyes, looking up at him.

"Will you join me, my Lord?" she asked quietly, motioning to the space beside her.

Bellamy felt a wash of guilt. Of course his constant motion would make her feel unwell, if she was inclined to sea-sickness. 

"Of course," he said. He set his folded coat down on the floor beside her and sat upon it. "How do you fare?"

She looked at him. "This is a shorter journey," she said. "It is not so bad." She looked across the room at Rose, who was nestled snugly in the bunk, fast asleep. "She does not see how it can be uncomfortable to travel so. She tries, but she cannot understand."

Bellamy nodded. "When you are used to being on land, it is always a trial."

Mingxu's dark eyes settled on his face. "And when you are used to being in the country, a city can feel as treacherous as the sea."

Bellamy looked at her, startled. 

One side of her mouth turned up in a brief, wry smile. "You are not the only person to love someone from a lower class, my Lord," she said. "There are fears that cannot be overlooked by one of our station, yet you would not imagine it to be a fear at all."

Bellamy's cheeks warmed with colour. "You think I misunderstand Rab?" he said uncertainly.

"No," Mingxu said simply. "I think you both do not know the other's world. You care for him. He cares for you. But your worlds are different, and so, how you see things are different. This is not misunderstanding. This is..." She thought for a moment. "It is like you both speak a different language. You both try to communicate in a common language, but it will not mean exactly what you intend it to mean because it is not your own language."

"And how does one find a way to express what they mean?" Bellamy asked. "I have told the man I love him more times than I can recall. Is that not enough?"

"Is he a man of words?"

Bellamy shook his head. "Not at all," he confessed. "But I have shown him also."

"How?"

Bellamy flushed. "I have shown him myself," he said. "Not the creature seen in town."

Mingxu refolded her hands. "Perhaps, seeing the man in town has bewildered him. Perhaps he does not know which is your true face."

Bellamy looked at her, stricken. "Is that possible?"

Mingxu looked down at her hands. "When my lady told me she would be leaving Canton and that the ship that would carry her here was crowded and little built for secret affairs, I readied myself to be left behind. I prepared my effects and would have returned to my family. I did not see that she told me as an invitation with warning that we would need to be discreet." She lifted her eyes to him. "Sometimes, actions and words do not mesh well. You must make your marks carefully, for they cannot be undone."

Bellamy nodded, knocking his head back against the wall. "Lud. I should not have been so hasty."

A small, cool hand touched his cautiously. 

Bellamy lifted his head and looked at the Chinese woman. 

"You saved my mistress from the shame of spinsterhood and being pushed into a marriage that might have been cruel," she said quietly. "If you would have me speak for you, to explain why this marriage is not as he believes, I will."

Bellamy found he could not swallow about the lump in his throat. "That is very kind of you," he said, his voice trembling.

Her fingers curled around his hand. "We are all bound now," she said, gazing at him. "Not just you and my lady, but all of us. I would have us live in peace. If that is the way, then so be it."

He bowed his head over her hand, clasping her slender fingers between his hands. "In peace," he agreed. "God willing."

Mingxu shook her head. "God has no place here," she said softly. "This is our dominion. We must choose our way, not the Gods." Her other hand closed about his. "And it will be well. I promise you."

Bellamy nodded, though he only wished he could truly believe her.


	10. Chapter 10

It was raining as they approached Westfell.

Despite Bellamy's intention to keep moving as soon as they made land in the Firth of Forth, it was late in the day when they had arrived in Edinburgh. The house was prepared, and Mingxu was exhausted, though she would have feigned otherwise.

It was only common courtesy to let both women rest, rather than forcing them to press onwards.

They took a brief repast in the dining room at the house in Edinburgh, and Bellamy could not help but observe that the staff seemed much more present. No doubt to see the woman who would one day be Duchess. They stared rudely at Mingxu, who excused herself to eat and rest in spare chamber in the attic.

Bellamy apologised for their rudeness, but Rose simply nodded and told him it was to be expected.

They set off promptly with the morning, and only stopped briefly to change horses and eat sparingly at an inn along the road.

Rose lifted the screen shielding the window and peered out into the misted countryside. "Are we close to your lands, now?" she asked.

Bellamy's lips twitched wryly. "We have been on them for the past half hour," he replied. "There is a good deal of the place, though it is not often quite so wet and miserable as it is at present."

His wife looked at him, clearly startled. "And townhouses in three cities."

He waved a hand vaguely. "Father's family was wealthy even before they were elevated to our current rank," he said. "Just because we are Scotch nobility, do not imagine that it means our estates are paltry by comparison to English nobles." He leaned over and opened the screen. "We own a large number of farms in these areas."

"It is flatter than I expected," Mingxu offered quietly.

Bellamy nodded. "There are small hills hereabouts, but the mountains lie much further north." He drew back. "We shall be at the house within the hour."

Word had been sent ahead of them, so when the carriage clattered to a halt in the courtyard before Westfell, the windows were bright and welcoming, and the staff were waiting as they entered the halls to greet the unexpected Marchioness of Cathkin.

Bellamy ached to stride out into the forest at once and find the demmed brute he had dashed all the way to Scotland for, but etiquette had to be followed when one was bringing one's new wife into the house for the first time. The heads of staff were presented, though he could see the surprise in their expressions at the sight of Mingxu.

Chambers had been arranged near his own, though he knew the matter of how they would be accommodated would be better dealt with when his father returned. He had a notion of what they could do, but until the Duke returned, he knew it was best to play his hand close to his chest.

Rose looked around the rooms he had had arranged for her with delight. It was a ground floor set of chambers and had a southern facing set of French doors, overlooking the gardens, but the part that pleased her most was the small, adjoining maid's chamber. Her hand brushed his in wordless gratitude, as Mingxu ventured into the small room. It was simply dressed, with little more than a bed, a small chest and a bowl and jug for washing.

Their trunks and possessions were already brought up for them, and a bath had been set up in the chamber for Rose to make her ablutions. The water was still steaming, and she smiled happily at him. 

"We will only be here temporarily," he said, "until father returns and more permanent arrangements can be discussed."

"I did not imagine a room such as this would be available," Rose admitted.

Bellamy smiled slightly. "It was once the nursery," he said. "You would need somewhere to hide the nurse when the parents visited the child." He approached the window, looking out into the grounds. The rain had stopped, but night was falling. "You will be able to see the grounds on the morrow."

"You need not remain, Bay," Rose said. "I know you have places you would prefer to be."

He looked back at her. "Etiquette, I fear," he said quietly.

"To the devil with etiquette," she said, approaching him and catching one of his hands. "If they spot you abroad, I will tell them some creative lie that I had a desire for a cup of water fetched from a stream by your own fair hands. If I am to be a Marchioness and a Duchess, I must learn to make peculiar demands, must I not?"

He almost smiled in truth. "They will think you quite mad."

"Eccentric," she corrected. "One cannot be a wealthy noble and be mad." She rose on her toes and pressed her lips softly to his cheek. "Go. Find him. Resolve this matter between you, and return through these doors so no questions will be asked."

He only hesitated a moment before unlocking the French doors and hurrying out into the garden. He heard them close behind him, and glanced back to see his wife hold out her hand to her maid. The curtains were drawn closed and his lips twitched.

At least one of them would have a pleasing evening, then.

He knew he would not be noticed, and none would intrude on him and his wife when the doors of his wife's chamber were shut. The staff had long-since learned that closed doors to a bedchamber were to be respected. Too many blushes had ensued otherwise thanks to father and Mama Belle.

It was growing dark, but the sky was clearing and the gibbous moon granted enough light for him to find his way to the familiar path that led to Rab's small lodge in the woods. There was a light visible in the small windows, but that meant little, given that the man often hunted at night.

He hesitated at the door, then pushed it open.

The scent hit him, warm and heavy and familiar and beloved. 

The fire was burning gently, a kettle hung over it, and he could see the smoke from Rab's pipe hanging in the air. He was sitting in the chair by the fire, and he was not turning nor looking about, and Bay wanted to shake him.

"You know not to come in uninvited." Rab's voice was an inhospitable growl, that spoke of weariness and not a little inebriation.

"I will go where I demmed well please," Bellamy said tersely through lips that felt numb.

Rab stumbled too his feet, whirling around. He looked startled. "Bay? What the hell are you doing here?"

Bellamy closed the door fast behind him and turned the key in the lock. "I might ask you the same question," he said coolly. His heart was racing, but he forced his voice to steadiness. "Why did you not say you were leaving?"

Rab reached blindly behind him to set his pipe on the mantle. "Do I need your leave to come and go now, my Lord?"

Bellamy stared at him. "What the deuce do you mean by that?"

"I am a free man, my Lord," Rab said grimly. "I can go as I want."

Bellamy shook his head. "That is not what I meant!" he said indignantly. "I was worried!"

"About a servant?" Rab asked.

Bellamy recoiled as if struck. "What the devil do you make of me?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "Do you think it makes any matter to me what rank you are?"

Rab stared at him and slowly shook his head. "Of course it does, you stupid bastard," he said. His voice was thickened with emotion, and he was swaying enough for Bellamy to know Rab was drunker than he had ever allowed himself to be before Bellamy. He struck his chest with his fist. "I'm a fucking whore's bastard. I'm lower than fucking dirt to everyone. You belong with people like you!" He motioned at Bellamy, his expression bleak. "People who can give you wit and cleverness and dancing and know which fucking spoon to use."

Bellamy was torn between grief at Rab's words and anger at his presumption. "Who are you to tell me who I should be with, you idiot?" he demanded. "Who are you to say what I should want?"

Rab put out his hand, leaning on the back of the chair. "You go there often enough," he said. "In your fancy clothes, with your fancy dances, and your fancy wife and fancy friends who all know each other."

"And I come home," Bellamy said, his voice shaking with barely suppressed emotion. "I come home to you."

"No me," Rab retorted. "I'm your bit on the side, your entertainment, your wee bit of rough kept hidden in the shadows." He spread his hands. "I'm your whore."

Bellamy had never hit anyone in anger before, but he took three steps and knocked Rab to the floor. He was trembling from head to toe and his heart was in his mouth. "You arse," he sobbed out. "You stupid fucking arse! Do you want me to go out and shout to the world that I love you? If that's what it takes, I will! I'll go to Parliament if need be! They'll hang me or burn me or beat me, but God damn you, I will tell them if it will make you believe me!"

Rab was sprawled at his feet, staring at him.

"You hit me," he said. He sounded astonished.

Bellamy's hands were shaking by his sides. "Aye," he said tautly. "You called yourself a whore. You're not a whore."

Rab pushed himself up unsteadily into a sitting position. "You hit me," he said again. "You nancy bugger! You hit me! Knocked me down!"

Bellamy's anger was draining away and he felt so demmed tired. "You accused me of preferring spoons to you," he said.

They stared at one another for a long moment.

"Spoons," Rab said cautiously. "Why the hell do you need four? For one bloody meal?"

Bellamy shook his head. "I don't know," he said quietly. "Maybe to pay our whores."

Rab struggled back onto his feet. "Y'never gave me a spoon," he said.

"That's because you're not a whore, you stupid bastard," Bellamy said, a tentative smile trembling on his lips. "Rab, you're the only person I can be myself with, without fear. Why would you think I'd misuse you so?"

"I'd never seen you there before," Rab said. "You fit there, Bay. That world. All bright and colourful and rich."

"And dull as dirt," Bellamy said, lifting his hand to touch the reddened flesh where he had struck Rab's face. "Rab, I'm never happier than when I'm with you. I dress up, I play the dandy, I have friends, but they're not you. They couldn't be." They were so close now, and he could feel Rab's hands come to rest at his waist, and the other man's breath on his lips. "You're mine, do you hear me? You're mine and I'm yours. No one else's."

Rab knocked his brow against Bellamy's. "Daft bugger."

"Says you," Bellamy whispered. "Don't you ever fucking leave me again."

Rab's eyes were intent on his face. "Even if you have a wife?"

"Even then," Bellamy whispered. "If you want me to, I'll tell the world that. I'll tell everyone." His fingers twisted into Rab's tangled hair. "No one else comes close."

He didn't know which of them moved first, but their lips crashed together and he was driven back, pushed hard against the wall, and he held Rab harder and tighter, and knew that he was exactly where he wanted to be.


	11. Chapter 11

Bellamy felt settled, safe, warm when he woke.

Somehow, they had managed to reach the bed. It had taken a good deal of effort, for Rab was very, very drunk, but they had succeeded in getting beneath the covers. Rab wrapped around him there, arms and legs both, and when Bellamy woke, Rab's face was burrowed against his neck, his breath warm and rank against Bellamy's throat. 

Bellamy dragged his fingers through Rab's unruly hair, earning a mumble of protest.

"Rab," he murmured.

"Sod off," Rab grumbled.

Bellamy tugged on his lover's hair less gently. "I need to be up, Rab," he said. "I must have breakfast with the family."

Rab licked drowsily at his neck, in long sweeping strokes that made Bellamy's resolve waver. "No," he growled, one hand moving possessively down Bellamy's body.

"Rab, the children will be expecting me," he protested.

Rab ignored him, vanishing down beneath the blankets. His hands and mouth were clumsy with sleepiness, but no less effective, and thus, Bellamy stumbled out of his lover's small home much later than he first intended to.

He had wit enough to steal away with one of Rab's pitchers, and fill it from the stream near the house, and when he crossed paths with one of the gardeners, he held it up. 

"My lady wife demands fresh spring water," he lied, wondering what manner of image he presented with his stockings and cravat forgotten in Rab's house and his shirt and breeches creased and rumpled.

The gardener smirked, shaking his head, as Bellamy hurried onwards towards the house. 

He rapped lightly on the french doors of his wife's bedchamber, and was relieved when Mingxu pushed back one of the curtains, opening the door to let him in.

"Are matters well?" she asked, letting the curtain fall closed behind him.

Bellamy's cheeks burned, but he nodded, smiling. "Well enough," he said. "Our lady?"

Mingxu inclined her head towards the dressing screens. "You should attire yourself for breaking of fast," she said. "One of your manservants knocked upon the door. They have prepared your clothing."

Bellamy looked down at himself and the woeful state he presented. "Aye," he said ruefully. "That might be necessary. I shall come and fetch Rose anon."

Mingxu's eyes glinted as she shooed him towards the doors. "We shall await you, my Lord."

He pulled a face at her, leaving the pitcher of water in her care and hurrying out into the halls. Several servants were loitering and more than one of them offered him a nod of salutation that seemed somehow approving. Bellamy shook his head in dismissal as he rushed to his own chambers, but a door away. 

His clothing was laid out and the water in his washbowl was still warm enough to be tolerable. He scrubbed himself hastily, glancing down ruefully at the small bruises and bite marks that covered his belly and thighs. Rab had been entirely too thorough, and he knew that it would be some time before he would be without bruising.

He dressed suitably, donning a modest cravat, plain waistcoat, and a light housecoat, rather than anything more ostentatious. He was home, after all, and home suggested comfort rather than fashionable.

Some fifteen minutes later, he returned to Rose's chamber, rapping lightly upon the door.

His lady wife emerged, smiling and pink-cheeked. She was dressed demurely in a simple sky-blue gown, though he could not help notice that her slender throat was adorned much in the same fashion as his belly and thighs.

"You look well this morn," he observed, offering her arm.

"And you, my Lord," she said. "It was a most satisfactory evening, would you not agree?"

He could not keep the demmed silly smile from his lips. "Indeed, madam," he said, wondering what the deuce the servants might be thinking as they heard such things. "I found it quite pleasing."

Her eyes danced with amusement. "I believe I shall be quite happy," she informed him, "if our marriage is to proceed thus."

He smiled, leading her down the staircase towards the breakfast chamber. "I should warn you," he said, as they neared the door, "my siblings will be joining us for breakfast. They have not seen me in some months, and are likely to be most curious about you."

"Hostile?" she inquired.

He hesitated. "Perhaps," he admitted. "They are wary of strangers in our home at first." He pushed the door open on the dining room. 

As anticipated, Millie and Thomas were sitting properly at the table, while wee Jamie was in his nurse's arms. They stayed seated for all of three breaths, before they shoved their chairs back and were rushing towards him, ignoring Rose entirely.

Bellamy went to one knee, catching both Millie and Thomas in his arms. Wee Jamie squirmed down from the nurse's arms and toddled over, pushing his way into the embrace too.

"You didn't say you were coming home!" Millie exclaimed, pulling back to glower at him. For all that she has her mother's eyes, she had her father's glare, narrowing her eyes impressively. 

"I wanted to surprise you," he said solemnly, kissing her delicately on the end of her nose. Thomas and Wee Jamie received the same treatment, but that gave Millie the time to look suspiciously up at Rose. 

"Who's she?" she demanded.

Bellamy looked up with a smile. "This lady is Rose," he said. "She's my new wife."

Millie frowned. "You have a wife?"

"I do," he said, "and she's very nice and very kind."

Millie scrutinised her intently. 

Rose curtseyed elegantly. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Goldacre."

Millie went pink, but crossed her arms stubbornly. "My name is Amelia."

Rose smiled warmly. "My name is Rose, my Lady," she said. "I'm very pleased to meet you. Bay has told me good things about you."

Millie's eyes narrowed further. "You call him Bay?"

"He asked me to," Rose replied. She crouched down gracefully. "Tell me, Amelia, do you really ride as well as he says?"

Millie blushed ferociously, but lifted her chin, pride all over her face. "Better."

"Bay," Thomas demanded, hiding his face in Bellamy's shoulder. "Who's the funny lady?"

"The funny..." Bellamy turned his head to see Mingxu standing in the doorway. Millie's eyes widened. "Ah. This is Mingxu. She's from Canton in China. She used to be Rose's bodyguard."

"But she's a lady!" Thomas said. 

"She is," Rose said with a conspiratorial smile. "But once, she fought some half dozen men to save my life and beat all of them."

Rose's unexpected presence was entirely forgotten, all three of the children staring raptly at Mingxu, who flushed under their scrutiny. Millie scurried around Rose and took Mingxu by the hand. 

"You can sit beside me," she declared. She paused, frowning. "Do you know how to speak?"

Mingxu's lips twitched. "I do, Miss Amelia," she said. "I learned from my Lady."

Millie gave Rose a cursory look. "Good," she said, then tugged Mingxu in the direction of the table. "I want you to sit by me."

Mingxu shot a bemused look over her shoulder, but Rose nodded in reassurance. A couple of servants hastily added another chair to the table for her, and Bellamy rose, with wee Jamie in his arms and Thomas still clinging to his hand.

"Where shall I sit?" Rose asked, and Bellamy smiled, noticing the question was not directed at him, but at Thomas. Thomas hid his face in Bellamy's sleeve, then peeked out at her, as if she might be looking elsewhere.

"I think you should sit beside me," Bellamy said. "Thomas is having a shy day."

"Not," Thomas mumbled.

"Is that so?" Bellamy teased. "Hiding from the nicest lady who isn't your mama?"

Thomas peeped out at her. "Are you?" he asked suspiciously.

"Maybe you could sit beside her and see?" Bellamy suggested.

Thomas nodded grudgingly, offering out a lace-cuffed hand. "I'll show you where to sit," he informed her gravely. Of all of the children, Thomas had proven to be the most solemn, and Rose hid a smile as she was led to a chair. "There," Thomas informed her, pointing a stubby finger. 

"Thank you, good sir," she said, settling in the seat. 

Bellamy took the seat to her right, though any attempt to extricate wee Jamie from his arms was futile. The toddler nestled against him, holding on tightly. Bellamy waved the nurse away, then ruffled Jamie's tawny mop of curls. "Did you miss us, wee man?"

Wee Jamie looked up with wide, dark eyes. "Not go," he said, then snuggled closer again.

Rose looked over at Bellamy with a small smile. "I don't imagine we will be lacking in company while we are here," she observed.

"Not in the least," Bellamy agreed, motioning for the servants to bring in breakfast.

Though he could not say why, each of the footmen and male servants seemed to be sharing with him some manner of conspiratorial smile. He supposed they were acknowledging that he had done well to find so lovely a wife.

"Will that be all, my Lord?" McEwan asked, as the platters were set to one side, and the staff withdrew to leave them to eat. Thomas was already showing Rose the best way to devour a wedge of bread and honey. "Or have you an appetite for more?"

Bellamy looked at him in puzzlement. His appetites had not changed once in all of his life, and he could scarce imagine why they might think so. "I think this will be sufficient, McEwan," he said, waving him away.

McEwan bowed, and to Bellamy's utter astonishment, offered a quick and knowing smile. "If you should change your mind, my Lord, you need only ring."

As soon as the door closed, Bellamy looked at Rose in confusion. "What the deuce do you suppose that was about? Am I looking quite bandy-legged and bony?"

Rose took a dainty sip of her tea. "Perhaps, my dear husband," she said innocently, "they believe your husbandly duties will be giving you greater appetites."

Bellamy felt himself flush to his ears. "Lud!" he declared. "If they will tease me so..."

"They show they are fond of you," Rose said.

"I cannot imagine why they would think such a thing!" he said, offering wee Jamie a piece of toasted bread. The child smiled shyly and chewed on it. 

Rose glanced sidelong at Mingxu, whose lips were twitching. "Indeed, my lord husband," she said innocently. "Neither can I."

Bellamy could not help feeling that some mischief was afoot that he was unaware of. All the same, it was not a matter to discuss over breakfast with the children present, so he turned his attention instead to wee Jamie and the platter they were sharing as Rose and Mingxu were each entertained by Millie and Thomas in turn.


	12. Chapter 12

Westfell suited Rose very well.

She and Bellamy took to walking in the grounds with the children, shadowed by Mingxu, though Mingxu was often dragged off to be shown all manner of things that Millie and Thomas thought were interesting. 

Both of the elder children were fascinated by the idea of coming from somewhere even further away than London. Everything and anything they stumbled across on their walks would be displayed for Mingxu's attention, in case she had never seen such a thing before.

It was only when the children were ushered to bed in the evenings that Bellamy was able to voice his gratitude for her patience with them.

Mingxu only smiled quietly and replied, "There are far worse traits than curiosity."

It was just unfortunate that the presence of his siblings made it more difficult to bring his lover into the secretive circle made up of his wife and her lover. 

It was true that on some evenings, he was able to slip away to spend time with Rab, under the illusion that he and his wife had retreated to their bed chamber, but for the most part, they had to present themselves as man and wife to the household. 

One afternoon, when the weather turned inclement and rain was lashing at the glass, Mingxu was dragged away on yet another adventure. Bellamy and Rose found themselves forbidden from following, leaving them alone but for Wee Jamie, who had fallen asleep with his head settled in Rose's lap.

"I dread to imagine what they are about," Bellamy admitted.

"They wish to be warriors," Rose said, smiling, as she stroked wee Jamie's hair. "They believe that if we do not know of it, we will allow Mingxu to teach them how to defend themselves and one another."

Bellamy blinked at her, momentarily startled. "They wish to be trained in combat?"

Rose laughed. "Do not tell them I told you so," she warned. "Mingxu finds it charming, and they seem taken with her." A brief, dark look crossed her face. "She has not always received such eager and friendly attentions from people of our kind."

"I imagine not," Bellamy admitted, recalling so well how oddly she was stared at in town. "Children are refreshingly tolerant of such things, I find."

"Though I fear that tolerance may be tested if they ever set foot in proper society," Rose said, looking down at wee Jamie. "This place is good for them, but town will be a shocking lesson for them when they are older."

"Then it is good that they are young for now," Bellamy said. "We ought to let them have a happy childhood. All too soon that will be gone."

She smiled, nodded. "One day, they might even tolerate all our secrets," she mused.

Bellamy blanched at the thought. "Lud! I do not even want to imagine my infant siblings knowing about such things," he said, "let alone knowing of my proclivities. Millie would ask all manner of deuced awkward questions."

Rose's eyes danced. "She would, wouldn't she? A most curious little creature." She smoothed wee Jamie's curls. "I cannot imagine what she would begin to ask me. Or Mingxu for that matter."

Bellamy wrinkled his nose. "I believe chief among the questions would be the how."

Blue eyes sparkled. "You have a question, husband?"

Bellamy wondered if he was blushing as much as he felt he was. "I-I imagine there are... accoutrements."

Rose burst out in an unladylike peal of laughter that startled the toddler by her side to wakefulness. He complained fretfully until she lifted him into her lap and let him nestle closer to her. "Yes," she said mirthfully. "Accoutrements. They do become somewhat necessary. You and yours are endowed where we are lacking in some parts." A mischievous smile played upon her lips."Mingxu has given me some quite beautiful artefacts."

Bellamy's face felt quite warm. "Lud," he mumbled. "Rab would scarce believe a lady such as yourself would speak of such things."

"Well, then," she said, "we shall have to become better acquainted. As soon as your parents return, you and I should take some time to ourselves." A smile lit upon her face. "We should take a picnic somewhere pleasant, away from prying eyes and ears."

The very idea was so simple, so pleasant, that Bellamy smiled in return. "I would like that, very much," he said, for he had grown quite fond of his wife. 

She was as bright as Mama Belle, but had a sharp wit about her and a devil's tongue when crossed. It was the fault of being a sailor's daughter, she insisted. The crews often forgot their place and her vocabulary had become quite extensive accordingly. 

Away from the peering eyes of London society, without the pressures laid upon a young woman to be married, she had fairly bloomed. She laughed easily and had a ready wit. The country brought warm colour to her cheeks, and she played with the children with such enthusiasm and laughter that it was almost unseemly. 

Indeed, Millie declared that their new sister was a very good sister after she tucked her skirts into her drawers and tried to climb a tree with them. She failed most impressively, landing on her backside in the dirt, but she had succeeded in winning over Millie's approval and a bruised tailbone was worth that.

He told Rab of her intentions as they lay together that night.

"All of us the gether?" Rab said doubtfully. "I dinnae think that's a good idea, Bay."

They were sprawled together against one of Rab's sturdy chests on the furs before the fire. Bellamy was settled back against Rab's chest, his lover's legs framing his own. They had scarcely touched one another, but had taken food together and shared a bottle of fine wine that had left them both feeling warm and lazy. 

"She's not as fearsome as you think," Bellamy murmured, as Rab's fingers loosened his cravat and tossed it aside.

"Oh, I hae no doubt of her ferocity," Rab murmured. "I watched her chasing the wee ones about on the lawn the other day."

Bellamy smiled drowsily as his lover's hand slipped inside his shirt. "Did you see her in the tree?"

Rab's hand stilled. "The tree?"

"Mm. She tried to climb it, the silly creature. I think she wanted to show Millie that she wasn't a stuff-shirt." He chuckled. ""They like her even better now," he said. "I think you might too, you know. She and her maid."

"Mm." Rab hardly sounded convinced at all. 

Bellamy wished he felt comfortable enough to reveal Rose and Mingxu's private secret to Rab, but he knew how discomfitted he would be if someone declared his secret to another. He had tried time and again to make subtle indications and careful hints of Rose's preferences, but Rab either was oblivious or wilfully ignorant of what he was trying to gently imply. 

It was because she was Bellamy's wife, Bellamy knew. The silly man felt demmed awkward about spending time in the company of a woman who was legally bound to him.

Of course, the whispers around the estate did little to help.

Many of the servants muttered and whispered about the frequency with which the Duke's son would go to his wife's chambers, and the indecent haste with which the doors were locked. Only the fact that Bellamy spent each of those nights in Rab's company had reassured him that it was all a matter of play for both spouses. 

"If you will stop huffing about it," Bellamy murmured, "we would quite like to go to the waterfall."

Rab's hand stilled on his chest. "Our waterfall?"

Bellamy brought up his hand to cover Rab's upon his chest. "Aye," he said. "Rab, the woman is bound to me, but she's no hoyden. Will you not just spend an afternoon with us? She would like to know you as I do." He paused, then they both snorted in helpless amusement. "Well, maybe not quite as I do..."

"Just one afternoon?" Rab said dubiously.

"If that's all you want, after you spend some time with her."

Rab was silent for a long while, his cheek resting against Bellamy's hair. "Ye'd be happy if I did this."

"I would," Bellamy said quietly. "Rab, I know you don't want to like the woman, but she's my wife and she's going to be here for the foreseeable future. I would like us to all be friends."

Rab snorted quietly. "Aye. Because ladies are so often friends with the groundskeeper."

Bellamy stroked the back of his wrist soothingly. "You and Mama Belle are friends," he murmured. "And Mama Belle was of much higher station than Rose." Rab made a low, grumbling sound that Bellamy took to mean that he acquiesed to losing the argument. "If you dislike her, you can avoid her as you please, but at least make sure that you know her first, mm?"

"Will that maid of hers be there and all?" Rab asked finally, his hand moving in slow, lazy circles on Bellamy's chest. "The wee Chinese lass?"

Bellamy smiled sleepily by the light of the banked fire. "Aye," he said. "She and Rose do most everything together."

"She speaks English, then?"

Bellamy nodded. "And Rose speaks the Chinese language too." He chuckled quietly. "We have our private language, they have theirs."

Rab nuzzled his hair. "I'll bet the wee lass never made suggestions like I did at the dance we went to."

Bellamy's cheeks warmed at the memory. "We never did find one of those fine chairs to use, did we?" he murmured, laying his other hand lightly on Rab's thigh. "Although, with Mingxu, you could be very much mistaken. She's quiet, like you, y'see." He yawned expansively, as Rab slowly undid his shirt. "Never trust the quiet ones. Troublemakers, the lot of you."

"Aye," Rab's voice was soft in his ear. "Because wee Chinese lasses always offer to bugger their mistresses in public."

Bellamy laughed drowsily. "You'd be surprised, Rab," he murmured, "what my dear virtuous wife would offer to do in public." He patted Rab's thigh again companionably. "I'faith, I swear the woman would be as troublesome as you, if she had half an eye upon me."

Rab's mouth was suddenly hot and insistant upon his throat, and Bellamy smiled as his eyes drooped closed. He was being quite thoroughly marked, and it felt entirely too delicious. 

"Randy old bastard," he murmured, as Rab's hand slipped down over his belly.

Rab's other hand nudged his head around and he was kissed. "Just reminding you where you belong, ye nancy bugger," Rab whispered against his lips. 

Bellamy smiled into the kiss. "As if I could forget," he said, as he turned about in his lover's arms.


	13. Chapter 13

The sun was shining and the weather was fine.

The Duke and Duchess, along with the Dowager Duchess, had arrived back in Westfell only days earlier. Mama Belle was quite expanded, and as happy as she was to see all her children, she was quite wearied by some weeks on the road from London. Bellamy's father insisted on tending upon her himself, soothing her aches and pampering her entirely.

Bellamy and Rose assisted where they could for the first few days after their return, and it was some four days before his father insisted that it was quite all right for him to take Rose and Mingxu for a day out without the children. 

Bellamy let Rab know, and as much as his lover grumbled, Rab had agreed to one day in the company of Bellamy and his wife. Bellamy hoped against hope that Rab would finally see what he could see in his wife, and that there might at least be less tension between them. 

Rab met them on the lawn of the house, bearing the large picnic hamper from the kitchens, which had been arranged in advance of their picnic. It was absurdly large, and certainly too hefty for Bellamy to carry on his own, which gave weight to the pretence that Rab only accompanied them as manual labour.

Until they were out of sight of the house, Rose and Bellamy walked arm in arm, talking of mundanities and nonsense, but as soon as they were in the safe shade of the woods, they detached from one another, and Bellamy took one of the handles of the basket at once to aid Rab.

Mingxu and Rose wandered ahead, talking to one another, and Bellamy smiled as Mingxu unpinned her hair from the severe knot she often wore it in. Her gowns were looser too, more comfortable for their walk, and Rose slipped her arm through Mingxu's. They made a lovely pair, contrasting so much in appearance. 

"Ye dinnae think it'll be too much of a walk for the lasses?" Rab said finally, the first he had spoken since they had set out.

"Lud, no," Bellamy replied. "Mingxu is much stronger than you would expect and Rose has survived far worse than a two-mile walk."

Rab made a dubious sound. "Ye dinnae need to help me carry it, Bay," he said, trying to reclaim the basket.

Bellamy snorted. "If you think I'm going to leave you to huff back here on your own, you are sorely mistaken," he said. "Rose and Mingxu have little time about on their own. I see no reason not to take advantage of the fact they wish to converse alone while we walk." He offered a small smile. "You surely do not mind me spending time with you?"

Rab looked momentarily flustered and shrugged. "We dinnae do so in front of people."

Bellamy smiled quietly. "We do now."

Rab glanced ahead, as if expecting to see Rose and Mingxu casting critical glares at them, but Rose was laughing and adorning Mingxu's hair with a sprig of some wildflower or other. 

"Aye," he said, bewildered. "Aye, we do."

They said little else as they walked, though Bellamy could see Rab was both pleased and perplexed that his presence was not a cause of irritation or consternation to Bellamy's wife. Indeed, she scarce paid them heed at all, as she and Mingxu talked softly and laughed with one another. 

It was only when they reached the clearing by the waterfall that she turned with a bright smile. "Where shall we lay out the picnic, Master Graham?" she asked. "Bay says you know this area well, and I do not doubt there is some part where we shall not be half-drowned by the spray from the falls."

Rab nodded ahead. "Close to those trees," he said awkwardly. "Ye'll want to be out of the sun, if you dinnae want to burn."

Rose smiled at once, touching his arm. "Very well," she said. "Shall we?"

Rab looked bewildered at Bellamy, but they followed her, and as soon as he set the basket down, Rose delved into it, shaking out a blanket upon the grass.

"I shall arrange matters here," she said. "You need not hover about, either of you. If you have anything you would do, while I unpack..."

Rab looked at Bellamy, who knew precisely what he would like to do, and what Rab was probably imagining as well. "If your ladyship will excuse us, we might climb up by the falls," Rab said, looking at Bellamy in challenge, as if he half-expected to be refused.

Rose smiled warmly. "Lud, I would be a terrible wife if I forbade my husband to work up an appetite," she said, and Bellamy knew he was going a shocking shade of puce. He made a show of shedding his coat, and peeled off his shoes and stockings.

"You will be quite occupied here?" he said, setting clothing and shoes both beside the basket.

Blue eyes danced at him. "No more so than you," she said. "Run along. I have much to lay out. Be back in half an hour?"

He offered his hand. Rose laid her fingertips lightly against his, and he bowed low over them to kiss them. "I hear and obey, my dear wife," he said, adding in a murmur too low for Rab or Mingxu. "You wicked vixen."

Rose waved him away with a soft laugh. "Off with you," she said. "We shall have food ready for your return."

Bellamy could not keep the foolish grin from his face, as he and Rab circled around the pool of the waterfall, and set to climbing. Rab was silent and Bellamy could tell he was puzzled, even as they ascended to the hidden cavern that had been the home to many a secret tryst.

"She knows of us, doesn't she?" he said as soon as they entered the cavern, and any words were muffled by the rush of the water. 

"I told you that she did," Bellamy said, approaching him and spreading the front of Rab's shirt, splaying his hands on the other man's skin. Rab's hands covered his, still them. "Did you disbelieve me, Rab?"

"I didnae think she would do so, so readily," he admitted.

Bellamy leaned closer to kiss him. "Well, she does, and she has given us a half hour," he said. "Now, are you going to frown and puzzle over it or do you wish to take advantage of buggering me backwards within two hundreds yards of my wife?"

Rab grinned wolfishly. "Is that a request?"

"Suggestion," Bellamy clarified, eyes dancing. "After all, I have little appetite and the picnic is quite large." He pushed Rab back against the rough wall of the cavern. "You'll have to work me hard."

"And put ye away wet?" Rab purred, his hands moving to slip over Bellamy's hips and drag him closer, squeezing his arse.

"God, yes," Bellamy groaned, arching his neck and baring his throat.

They returned only a little over the half hour. It was - alas - necessary, for Rab was persistent and Bellamy was hardly inclined to dissuade him. They were red-cheeked from exertion, though the descent from the top of the falls could be quite well blamed for that.

Rose was sitting on the edge of the pool, dabbling her bare feet in the water, her skirts drawn immodestly halfway up her shins, while Mingxu had gathered her skirts up above her knees and was wading in the water. 

"A pleasant walk?" Rose asked innocently, drawing her feet from the water.

"Refreshing," Bellamy replied, offering his hands to help her to her feet. "You were not too bored."

Rose smiled warmly. "We were occupied enough," she said. She called out to Mingxu, beckoning her to come ashore. "Are you both hungry?"

Bellamy glanced at Rab. "Are you?"

"Starving," Rab said abruptly. He looked unrulier than before, his shirt untucked and his hair mussed in all directions. He was still eyeing Rose with wariness, and Bellamy could quite understand why. It was one thing to have someone else know, but another entirely to take dinner with them.

Rose offered a hand down to Mingxu, to help her from the pool. "Then we shall eat," she said, "and get to know one another better."

Rab shifted uncomfortably from one foor to the other, but followed them all to the picnic, which was laid out on the blanket. Bellamy could not help but notice that there was a patch of grass that seemed a good deal more crushed than it had before he and Rab had made their way out of sight. He glanced from it to Rose, as she sat down demurely, and her smile, for a brief instant, turned wicked.

"Come, come," she insisted, waving them down. "I am famished."

Mingxu took her place close to her mistress, though she reclined on the grass, turning her face up towards the sun. Rab, on the other hand, sat upright and rigid, his hands resting on his thighs. It was true that his wariness was not unfounded, but Bellamy wished he knew what words would ease his lover's mind.

"I hope you do not find Bay too greatly changed by matrimony," Rose said, as she filled a platter and handed it to Rab.

"No much," Rab said, taking the plate carefully. "Thank you, milady."

Bellamy poured them each a cup of wine. "I doubt much could change me, eh, Rab?" he said, trying to draw some kind of response from him. His lips twitched. "Though according to the servants, they seem to believe I am the most ardent husband in all of Scotland."

"We worked hard to ensure the household believed it," Rose said.

"We?" Rab echoed around a mouthful of food with an uncertain look at Bellamy, who shook his head. He looked back at Rose. "What we?"

Rose leaned down to pick through a small bowl of peaches. "Mingxu and I," she said, selecting a peach. "I had her fuck me as hard as a man would to ensure it would be convincing."

Rab choked on the mouthful of chicken. "Wh-what?"

Bellamy hid a grin in his wine.

Rose turned over a peach in her hand. "Of course, it was a challenge to remember to call Bay's name, and I near laughed myself silly when Mingxu tried to approximate the sounds she imagined he would make."

This time, Bay sputtered wine upon himself. "The deuce...?"

Rose looked up at him with an impish look. "Surely, you were not innocent enough to think your servants would not be listening at the doors," she said, her eyes dancing. "You're an old groom, Bay. I think they feared you were incapable."

Bellamy gawped at her like a stunned fish.

Rab had finally managed to swallow down his food, though he was still purple in the face. "What the hell do you mean?" he demanded.

Rose looked at him in astonishment, then turned a reproachful look on Bellamy. "Lud, Bay! I thought you had told him!"

Bellamy shook his head, mopping at his stained shirt. "It's not my tale to tell," he said. "Damn you, woman! This was silk!"

Rose waved a hand dismissively. "You are wealthy enough to buy a dozen more and anyway, there are moss stains on the back already," she said. She turned her attention back to Rab. "What your idiot of a lover has failed to mention is that I have no inclination towards his masculine parts, for I have a lover already."

Bellamy glanced at Rab in time to see his eyes widen as he looked between the two women. "I told you that there were exceptional circumstances," he informed him.

"But two lasses?" Rab said, staring at them. 

"How is it any different from two men, pray tell?" Rose inquired sweetly. "I would be most intrigued to know."

Rab snatched up Bellamy's cup of wine and drained it. "Jesus," he declared.

"Quite," Bellamy said. He laid his hand on Rab's thigh. "Now, do you understand?"

"No even a wee bit," Rab said bluntly. "Christ, Bay!" He flushed, looking awkwardly at Rose. "Pardon me, milady. I'm being awfy rude."

Rose leaned over, smiling and refilling his cup. "Have no fear, Master Graham," she said, "I am sure I know far more profanities than you and Bay combined, in far more languages." She met his eyes with a mischievous grin. "I find they are the most useful words to know and always make the greatest effort to learn them all first."

Rab stared at her, befuddled. "You and she?" He nodded towards Mingxu, who seemed to be drowsing like a lazy cat in the sun. "Truly?"

"She and I," Rose agreed with a glowing smile. "For some years now. Not so long as Bay and yourself, but we hope to be so in future." She put out her hand and smoothed Mingxu's dark hair. "And thanks to Bay, we do not need to fear being forcibly parted."

Bellamy flushed, shrugging. "It was mutually beneficial," he mumbled, hiding his face over his platter. "It was hardly anything of import."

"No," Rose agreed mildly, "you only married a low-ranking sea Captain's daughter, who would have been disgraced and alone had her secret become common knowledge, and turned her into your Duchess. Hardly anything at all."

Rab stared at her, then turned to Bellamy, dragging him over and kissing him hard.

Bellamy drew back, breathless and flushing, a moment later. "What was that in aid of?"

Rab was smiling, brilliantly and beautiful. "I never could do it before anyone before," he said, his hand covering Bellamy's on his thigh. "I always wanted to without fear of the noose."

Rose smiled over the rim of her cup. "To secrets," she said, her expression warm as she raised her glass, "and to having those who can keep them."


	14. Chapter 14

With the return of the Duke, plans had been put in motion.

The house that stood further out into the estate, the ghost house where only the shadow of Bellamy's late mother lingered, was to be the house of the Marquis and Marchioness of Cathkin. 

Bellamy did not wish to be far from his family or the estate as a whole, but he and his wife had a need of privacy, away from the invasion of smaller siblings. The Dower House, once it was refreshed and tended, was to be their new and private home. It would allow them to be close enough to take family meals, but to be far enough not to be disturbed, especially with the impending arrival of the fourth child of the Duchess.

The Duke and the Dowager Duchess went to the old house one afternoon, to oversee the packing of the many items stored there. Bellamy knew what it was for them, to see his late mother's effects being closed away finally, laid to rest. He wished that he could remember her better, more than a pale, smiling face with features to faded by time he could not even recall the colour of her eyes. 

He and his wife visited the house but once during the restoration, the chaos and dust driving them out almost immediately. Neglected paintwork and plaster were being repaired, windows replaced, the floor retiled where damage had been done.

"Do you think it will do?" he asked Rose, as they gazed at the facade.

She smiled. "It is twice the size of my family's London home," she said. "It is more than enough for our needs, I believe. We are but a small family, after all."

He looked at her. "You do not regret that we shall not have children?"

She shook her head. "Your siblings are more than enough," she said. "I have no real desire to produce heirs anyway, but especially not to supplant them." She drew him around with her, walking back across the grass, her arm through his. "What of you? Do you regret it?"

Bellamy hesitated, remembering the wonder of first holding Millie in his arms. "Yes," he confessed quietly. "I would like to have been a father." He offered her a brief, fleeting smile. "But such inclinations as mine own render it rather difficult."

She leaned against his arm, her hand sliding down to clasp his. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

He shook his head. "It is no fault of yours," he said, his fingers lacing through hers. "And we have the children here. They will keep us busy enough, don't you think?"

Rose nodded. 

They walked slowly back towards Westfell, in companionable silence, her grip on his hand warm and comforting.

They were in sight of the house when she drew him short. "I am happy, Bay," she said. "Here. With you. I did not expect to be so, but you have given me a home, and I am happy."

He lifted their joined hands and bowed his head to kiss their interlaced fingers. "I would have you so," he said. "You have given Rab cause to smile and to believe that I do not seek him only behind closed doors. You cannot imagine what that means to him. To me also."

Rose smiled. "I can imagine," she said, "for it is the same for Mingxu and I." She tugged playfully at his hand. "And now, you are considered a most potent husband, for the amount of time you spend in my bedchamber."

Bellamy felt his cheeks darken. "At least we will have fewer prying eyes," he admitted. "Father has chosen some of the more discreet staff to tend our home."

"What are the arrangements for the bedchamber?" she asked, as they resumed walking.

A furtive smile crossed his lips. "You will see soon enough," he said. "I have arranged for you to have the chamber with the most charming views."

"On this estate, there are few chambers without," she said, as the continued on their way towards the big house. "We will be about in town too, when the season is suitable? I would very much like to see the cities here."

"It will be arranged," he promised.

Day by day, they awaited the news that their home was ready for them, and when the day came, Rose could scarce contain her excitement. It was one thing to be a daughter-in-law in her father-in-law's home. It was another entirely to be settling into one's home with one's husband.

"We may need to pick some other new furnishings from father's collections," Bellamy cautioned her as they made their way towards the Dower house. It had been renamed more aptly as The Bower, which the Duke professed was a terrible show of sentimentality, but Mama Belle thought was quite delightful. 

"I'm sure it will be quite wonderful," Rose insisted, eyes shining. 

"That's because you are used to living on boats and in factories," Bellamy said with a sniff, earning a muted giggle from Mingxu, who was hurrying along behind them. "I, my dear, am a civilised gentleman. I have higher expectations."

Rose swore cheerfully at him and struck him on the arm. "You are a conceited prig, Bay Goldacre."

He smiled. "Aye, I try my utmost," he agreed, as they reached the gate of The Bower. All of the stonework had been cleaned, and the windows shone. Even the ornate knocker had been polished to gleaming. Surrounded on all sides as it was by trees, it looked quite picturesque.

"Oh," Rose said happily. "It looks beautiful."

"This is but the wrapping for a gift," he said, smiling, turning his hand to cradle her fingers. "Come. I will show you my particular gift for you, m'dear."

He led her into the house, the redecoration of which had been done entirely to his specifications. She broke away from him, darting about, exclaiming in delight over the south facing drawing room and parlour. The dining room was at the north east side, overlooking the garden with its bright stream. The room presently was occupied only by a table and chairs. The walls were bare.

"Do you think we will entertain here?" Rose asked, running her fingertips along the polished oak.

"I see no reason why we should not have company," Bellamy agreed. "But come, I have that I must show you." 

He took her by the hand, leading her through the house to the north west side. There was a bed chamber there, with French doors that opened onto the terrace and thence onto the garden, with a desk placed under one of the broad windows.

"This," Bellamy declared, "is to be my chamber."

"Accessible to the great outdoors," Rose said with a knowing smile. "How very much it suits you." She nodded out of the door, where Rab was perched on the terrace, smoking a pipe already. "I see we have a visitor already, to test your defences."

He snorted, grinning. "The hairy brute wanted to be about when we came," he agreed. He rattled on the glass, and Rab glanced over his shoulder with a nod of acknowledgement, holding up his half-smoked pipe. 

"Let him be," Rose said, unlocking the door and pushing it ajar. "He can find us within."

"A wise suggestion," Bellamy agreed. "One cannot come between a man and his pipe." He gestured to Rab that they would be further inside, the groundskeeper nodding. Bellamy turned his attention back to Rose. "But I made sure it was known that I wanted to have ready access to my wife," he said, tugging her over to the wall. With the lightest of touches, a panel moved aside, revealing a staircase.

"Oh my!" Rose said, eyes dancing. "Should I expect to be ravished in my sleep?"

"Lud, I am known for it," Bellamy said, leading her up the narrow staircase between the walls. At the top, there was a small handle, and he drew aside another panel, leading his wife and Mingxu out into the chamber on the south side of the building, rather than directly above his own room.

Rose made a soft, delighted sound, the room filled with afternoon sunlight. The colours were warm and light, the furnishing simple, but elegant in ways he knew would suit her best. She hurried towards the windows, calling Mingxu to her. 

The view overlooked the swells of hills and fields, a patchwork of colours and shades, threaded with rivers and even the glimpse of the silver spill of a loch. 

Rose flew back towards Bellamy, wrapping her arms about him. "Thank you!"

He flushed, patting her back awkwardly. "Tis but a room," he said, drawing her back. 

"Am I in the way?" Rab's voice interrupted them.

Bellamy and Rose both looked around with a smile. 

"Not in the least, Master Graham," Rose said, stepping back. "I believe I was keeping him warm for you."

Bellamy snorted, but smiled in pleasure as Rab briefly slipped his arm around Bellamy's waist. He ran his hand along his lover's arm. "Would you like to see Mingxu's chamber?"

"I am not to be housed with the servants?" Mingxu said in surprise.

Bellamy looked at her reproachfully. "Do you think I would be so ungentlemanly? It is known you are my lady's companion. Companions are not shunted off to the attic or the basement along with the staff."

Mingxu flushed, ducking her eyes. "I did not mean to imply so, my Lord," she said.

He waved away her words. "It is no matter," he said. He tried to move forward, but Rab pulled him back with a warning growl. Bellamy rolled his eyes, then waved towards the main door of the chamber. "If you look behind the door..." Mingxu hurried over and closed the main door, revealing a smaller door, modestly concealed in the corner of the room. "That would be your chamber."

It was true it was not as grand a room as Rose's, but that would have resulted in unseemly questions, but it was a lovely chamber, with some little luxuries for a lady's companion.

Mingxu looked around, her eyes bright with emotion. 

Bellamy - still closely held by Rab - came to the doorway, watching, as Rose approached Mingxu, taking her hands.

"Are you well?" she asked her lover softly.

Mingxu nodded. "This is all mine?" she asked in a trembling voice, looking to Bellamy. "This is for me?"

"It is," Bellamy said with a small smile, leaning back into Rab's embrace. "This is your home as it is ours."

The Chinese woman smiled, bright and brilliant. "Our home," she said, looking at Rose, tears in her eyes. "We have a home."


End file.
